


Sanguis Sanguinem Meum

by SageMcMae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - John Wick (Movies) Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Badass Rey, Dark Reylo, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Loss of Virginity, Mentions of past abuse, Organized Crime, Partners in Crime, Protective Kylo Ren, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Unplanned Pregnancy, mentions of human trafficking, the dog doesn't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMcMae/pseuds/SageMcMae
Summary: “You need a teacher but so do I,” he conceded, running a hand through his hair. “I am amending my former offer. We become partners. I teach you and you teach me. Equal parts, give and take.”“On one condition. Our partnership remains purely professional.”His lips quirked slightly and he arched an eyebrow at her. “If that’s what you want.”“It is."“Then I promise to keep things strictly professional,” Kylo agreed as he extended his hand towards her to shake on it. “Until you stop lying to yourself about what it is you really want.”International hitman Kylo Ren meets his match when he goes after the same contract as Rey Niima. A Reylo John Wick AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ria84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ria84/gifts).



> For my Virgo sister, [ Ria84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ria84/pseuds/Ria84/works), who has furthered my obsession with all things Keanu. I hope you enjoy my take on this cross-over AU. 
> 
> Thank you to [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for beta-ing this work and being my own personal cheerleader.

 

Kylo Ren shook off the rain as he climbed the front steps of the Continental New York. Like his mood, the sky was cloudy, dark and angry. Thunder roared overhead, as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. With another shake, he stepped inside the lobby and out of the cold.

 

At his side, Chewie, his faithful companion trailed along, shaking in time with his master. The mastiff matched his owner in size, speed and single-mindedness but as intimidating as the dog was, there were few in the industry who were quite as intimidating as Kylo Ren.

 

The First Order enforcer had a reputation for being a closer. He was the one people contracted if they wanted results. He went after contracts for millions of dollars, hardly breaking a sweat as he completed each and every one of them with ease. He’d never failed to take out a target.

 

Until today.

 

_Fuck._

 

He had spent the better part of the afternoon walking around the city, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowds. It was a vain pursuit. With the blood running down his face, soaking the top of his crisp white shirt, he’d earned more attention than desired.

 

Eventually, Ben had been forced to duck into an alley and make a call to the Doc. She arrived, timely as always, to stitch him up. When the Doc saw the state of him, Ben knew he couldn’t run away from his mistake. Or more accurately, he couldn’t run away from _her_.

 

The Scavenger.

 

His jaw was firmly set as he approached the front desk, Chewie at his side. Kylo stopped to direct the mastiff. “Chewie, sit.”

 

The animal instantly complied.

 

“Good dog.”

 

“Good evening, Mr. Ren,” the concierge greeted him in her typical indifferent fashion. “How may I be of assistance tonight?”

 

“I need to speak with one of your other guests. Can you deliver a message to Ms. Niima’s room? I’d like to request her presence at dinner in the restaurant.”

 

If Maz Kanata was surprised by his request, her face gave nothing away. She diligently began typing away at her computer.

 

“Certainly, sir,” she answered. “May I tell her what time to meet you?”

 

“Eight o’clock sharp,” he ordered.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Ren,” Maz replied. “Is there anything else I can do for you to make your stay with us more comfortable?”

 

“That will be all,” he responded. “Chewie, come.”

 

His dog followed him to the elevator bank, unwavering in his follow-through. Chewie understood the way the world worked. He followed the rules.

 

Kylo just wished others did too.

 

* * *

 

Rey Niima fingered the elegant card with the calligraphy script scrawled along it. The note was like all things in this world, deceptively beautiful to lure you into the danger that awaited right beneath the surface. There was no one that embodied that more than the card’s sender.

 

Kylo Ren.

 

She’d known it was a bad idea to go after the same contract as him. She’d violated an unwritten rule. No one else chased after a contract when Kylo Ren did and it was obvious why. The man was a no-nonsense, efficient killer. Clothed in all black like the Grim Reaper himself, the man was death personified. For many, he was the last thing they saw before they passed on into the endless night.

 

But Rey had forsaken the warnings, ignored the stories, and had stubbornly gone after Plutt herself.

 

It wasn’t business with Unkar Plutt. It was personal. Which was why Rey had thrown her own rulebook out the window and pursued the mark.

 

She’d never forget the way the bloated excuse of a man looked when he realized it was her who’d come to kill him. The terror in his eyes had only served to validate her reasonings. It had been the same terror her own eyes had once held, a long time ago, when Rey had still been innocent. But those days were long gone. She didn’t even know that girl anymore.

 

Seeing Plutt’s expression had been worth the scrap of a fight she’d gotten into beforehand. Even if it had delayed her revenge, Rey had to admit it had been thrilling. Kylo had a new scar across his face and she…well, there was a reason the Continental had an on-call physician.

 

Wincing as she touched the gash across her bicep, Rey reminded herself to call the concierge about Dr. Kalonia. She’d pay the good doctor to fix her up just as soon as she told Kylo Ren where he could stuff his invitation.

 

Grabbing a pen from the desk in her suite, she scribbled down her reply and tucked the card back in the envelope.

 

Everyone else may be afraid of Kylo Ren but Rey wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

It was half-past eight and the chair across from him remained empty. Kylo’s hands clenched into fists. When he’d received her response, he assumed she was toying with him, the same way she’d toyed with him this afternoon.

 

_Cheeky, little British—_

 

“Evening, Ren,” a smug voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Hux,” he grumbled, raising his whiskey glass in greeting.

 

“Were you expecting company?” the redheaded man questioned, his hand settling on the back of the chair meant for Ms. Niima.

 

“Apparently not,” Kylo replied tersely.

 

“Then you won’t mind if I sit,” Hux remarked, claiming the seat for himself.

 

Kylo didn’t reply, merely took a long sip of his drink. He wasn’t in the mood to entertain the man but he also wasn’t in the mood to incite an argument on Continental grounds. With no reason to leave and no input to share, he was left with the unfortunate option of listening to Hux drone on about his father and how unfair it was that Brendol refused to give up his seat on the First Order council.

 

It was no secret the only son of Brendol Hux coveted his father’s seat at the table. For years, the redhead had been bending his colleagues’ ears about his plans to take his rightful place on the council. Kylo had little interest in who sat on the council. The only thing that interested him was his next mark. That was what his days consisted of. Traveling from city to city, tracking down his target, eliminating them, then taking another contract. Wash, rinse, repeat.

 

As Hux went on, Kylo spotted a familiar head of chestnut hair passing by the restaurant.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

He rose from his seat, pausing only briefly to finish his whiskey before he was chasing after the girl. For the second time that day, she had surprised him.

 

The first had been when she landed a strike, carving through his face and down his torso with the blade she had hidden inside her boot.

 

_Clever little scavenger._

 

He wouldn’t underestimate her again.

 

She was at the bar when he strolled into the lounge, her lithe form perched on top of one of the leather stools.

 

For a second he wondered if they were anywhere else — were anyone else — how they would be. Would he pick her up and take her back to his room? Would she let him find out what was beneath those layers she insisted on wearing? Would he find salvation beyond his endless pursuit to purge the darkness from his soul?

 

Kylo took a step towards her, only to be cut off by another figure dressed in all black.

 

“Ren,” Bazine purred. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Finally come to take me up on my offer?” she asked as she walked two fingers up his broad chest.

 

“Not interested,” he grunted, shoving past her without giving her a second look.

 

He could feel her glare on the back of his neck. It wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Bazine Netal was a notorious manipulator. What she lacked in killer instinct, she made up for in coercion and espionage. There was no telling what the viper was after or when she’d strike, but she always did. Kylo was always careful around others in his profession, but he paid extra attention when Bazine was in the room.

 

Regardless, he took the seat next to Ms. Niima, impressed when she didn’t flinch at his intrusion.

 

“Not hungry?” he surmised before ordering another whiskey on the rocks from the bartender.

 

“I prefer to be alone,” she replied without looking at him.

 

“I prefer the same which was why I was surprised to see you at the Outpost,” he commented.

 

“It was an open contract,” the girl reminded him. “I didn’t break any rules.”

 

“Not a cardinal rule anyway,” he retorted with a smirk.

 

She shifted in her seat, her hazel eyes burning with flecks of gold. “Maybe you’re getting slow in your old age, Ren.”

 

“Maybe you’re too naive to know when you're in over your head, Scavenger.”

 

Rey made a humming sound and turned back to her glass. That was when he noticed what she was drinking. Whiskey. But not just any whiskey, his particular brand: Corellian whiskey.

 

_Interesting._

 

The bartender dropped off his glass and Kylo tipped it towards her in mock cheers. She ignored him, silently running her thumb over the rim of the glass.

 

Kylo watched her, studying her movements. Upon initial assessment, he’d assumed she was relaxed. After all, no blood could be spilled while on Continental ground. It was one of two cardinal rules for their occupation. Failure to comply with either of the two resulted only in one way.

 

 _Death_.

 

Looking at her now, though, Kylo could see the hints of apprehension in the way she held herself. She was just a tad _too_ tense. The way her gaze kept flickering up to the mirrored wall at the backsplash of the bar demonstrated her mistrust of the others in the lounge. Her jaw worked slowly, a subtle way for her to alleviate some of the stress. To anyone else, the details would have gone unnoticed but Kylo had been in this life since birth. He knew what to look for.

 

Naive wasn’t the correct word to describe the Scavenger. She had raw talent that most assassins would kill for. Literally. He suspected her own skill was more than she was comfortable with. There was a darkness in her. The same darkness that was within him, constantly churning, constantly demanding a pound of flesh to sate the beast inside.

 

He wondered if she spent the night tortured by nightmares, attempting to escape the faces of the victims she’d put down or if she erased them all the way he did. Kylo suspected it was the latter.

 

“What?” she broke the silence between them to glare at him.

 

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You’re staring,” she pointed out.

 

“You need a teacher,” Kylo shot back.

 

“I can handle myself just fine,” Rey insisted.

 

“Yeah?” He inclined his head to her arm, which he noted had been recently stitched up. He recognized the sutures as Dr. Kalonia’s handiwork. It had been a busy day for the Doc. “That could have been avoided.”

 

“Funny,” she smirked. “I was going to say the same to you.”

 

Without hesitation she reached over, dragging the pad of her forefinger along his face down the path of his own wound.

 

Kylo felt his breath catch in his throat. No one, with the exception of the Doc, had ever touched his face before. He rarely let anyone get close enough to try but what was more unsettling than that fact was how Rey smelled — like daisies and gunmetal. It was a combination that shouldn’t have worked, yet with her, it did.

 

“Until next time, Kylo.”

 

With that, she sauntered out of the lounge, leaving him staring behind her as if she’d just turned his entire world upside down.

 

Maybe she had.

 

* * *

 

Rey could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

 

 _Dammit, that was_ too _close._

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

What was it about danger that made her lose her head? She had an unhealthy fixation on it. The rush she got from tracking down a mark, the heady feel she received from completing a contract — none of that was normal. But by definition, Rey had never been normal.

 

She’d always had an uncanny ability to understand how things worked: machines, animals and people. Technology came easily to her. Hacking had been her gateway into the world she now lived in. Grand theft auto, breaking and entering, stealing funds from an offshore account...those and all been minor infractions on her record when she’d been in the system. Those were all a result of her being bored. Once she put her mind to it, the possibilities were endless.

 

At nineteen, she was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, contract killers on the market. Most people doubted her based on her size and her demure appearance. After she scored a two million dollar contract last fall, those people re-evaluated the nobody from nowhere. Suddenly, the scrawny Scavenger was a threat, one shrouded in mystery and far more lethal than expected.

 

The wide berth people began to give her was her first step to securing herself as one of the most sought after contract killers. Of course, today’s victory would skyrocket her to the top, right under the man she’d just shared a drink with.

 

Her heart continued to pound. What had she been thinking touching him like that? It was a rookie mistake, one she hadn’t made in years, not since Plutt had...

 

Rey shook her head, willing the painful memories away. None of it mattered now anyway. The past was dead. She’d done what she had to do. She’d killed it. He’d never hurt her again. No one would.

 

As she approached the door to her room, Rey noticed a dog sitting in the hallway. She knew pets were permitted on the premises but she’d never known anyone to own one. Pets were like family or friends — a liability.

 

Cautiously, she strolled over to the mastiff, reaching for his collar to see if the owner’s contact details were listed. Obviously, the dog had wandered off. She’d call down to Maz and have her ring the owner up.

 

As Rey tilted the tag upwards, the pounding in her chest increased.

 

Of course, it would be _his_ dog. He was the only one arrogant enough to not only own a pet but to bring it here.

 

“His name is Chewie,” a deep voice informed her from behind.

 

Rey straightened up, chiding herself for not hearing his approach. “You should have left him in your room. He’s lost.”

 

“No, he's tracking,” Kylo answered smoothly.

 

She glanced back down at the dog to find him watching her.

 

_Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh?_

 

“Track this,” she snapped, unlocking her door with the intention of slamming it in his face.

 

Kylo shoved his arm into the door, all the way to his shoulder. “Not so fast.”

 

“Ren,” she snarled in a warning.

 

“I want to talk.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“I brought you a gift,” he offered, producing an unopened bottle of Corellian Fifteen.

 

Rey narrowed her eyes, trying to assess his motivation through the doorway opening. “Why?”

 

“From one professional to another,” he explained. “It’s only a friendly chat, Scavenger.”

 

Her experience told her to say no. Her training told her to kick him out and shut the door. It was the insane thrill of the unknown, the danger factor, that had her stepping back and allowing him inside.

 

Him _and_ his dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> This is darker than any of my previous fics. What do you think so far?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left such supportive words in the comments last chapter. This is a new area of writing for me and I've been so nervous about the reactions. I really appreciate the feedback!
> 
> Thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works).
> 
> And special thanks to [haloren1st](https://haloren1st.tumblr.com/tagged/haloren1st) for the amazing piece I commissioned. She captured the beauty of the skyline so well.

 

The scavenger’s suite was nice, not as spacious as his own. Kylo supposed for a newer member of the First Order it was adequate. Once Chewie and he were inside, Rey secured her door. Both of them knew the locks, even the high-quality ones the Continental used, wouldn’t keep a true threat out. Like so many things in this world of theirs, it was an illusion.  

 

“Did you bring ice?” she asked as he made himself comfortable on her couch.

 

“Do you need it?” he inquired. She’d taken her drink neat at the bar and he preferred his whiskey undiluted.

 

Sensing the challenge in his tone, Rey sat in a leather armchair across from him. “No,” she replied as she tucked her left ankle behind her right, giving the appearance of a well-brought-up, demure girl. “I just thought you’d like to put it on your battered ego,” Rey commented with a smirk.

 

There she was — the mouthy minx he’d encountered at the Outpost.

 

He didn’t deign to reply, choosing instead to open the bottle and pour them each a double. His hand covered the glass as he slid it across the coffee table towards her.

 

“Cheers.”

 

Rey eyed the glass warily before her hazel orbs focused on his face with the same uncertainty.

 

The way she looked at him was unlike anyone else. Kylo didn’t see fear. There was no trace of a scared girl parading as something she wasn’t. No, the Scavenger’s success was hard won. No victory quite as difficult as the one which had brought him here with a burning question, one he could no longer resist asking.

 

“What did he do to you?”

 

Rey’s nostrils flared, her grip on the glass a bit too firm. Kylo could see her knuckles whitening. She noticed him noticing her.

 

Without taking a single sip of the amber liquor, she returned her drink to the table top. The tension was suddenly gone from her body as she leaned back into her chair, once again appraising him.

 

Kylo could see the cogs of her mind working, formulating a plan and, potentially, an exit strategy. Whatever he’d stumbled upon, it was personal, far more personal than any contract killer had a right to be. Because personal vendettas came with emotions and emotions made you sloppy. Emotions got you killed.

 

The Scavenger was a novice but before she’d become a gun for hire she’d been a survivor. Survivors operated under the same principle. They did whatever was necessary to ensure they lived to see another day. Taking a risk to secure vengeance was a gamble. A dangerous one.

 

It was a rookie mistake, the type his mentor would have beat him for. The girl had no mentor, yet she seemed acutely aware of her error. And of the fact he knew it too.

 

“I agreed to talk. I didn’t agree to an interrogation,” she responded curtly.

 

“I’m curious,” Kylo said before sipping his whiskey. “The bounty wasn’t that high.”

 

“Two million is pretty high,” Rey retorted.

 

He shrugged indifferently. He’d gone after better contracts, more interesting targets for less. Travel wasn’t cheap, especially when he brought Chewie along. Kylo refused to sedate the mastiff while he flew. Not that the Scavenger needed to know that. To many in this profession, attachments were like emotions.

 

His companion remained seated by his feet, still as stone as he watched his master and the rival assassin discuss their business.

 

“He deserved what he got,” Rey finally answered. Before Kylo could ask her about her remark, she snatched up her glass and downed the entire thing.

 

“A bullet to his head?” he supplied.

 

She reached across the table to grab the bottle, her eyes never leaving Kylo’s face. “A cut for every strike,” she replied with no remorse. Rey poured herself another glass before lounging backward in her chair.

 

For someone so tiny, she certainly held her liquor well. As she stared at him, Kylo felt the same strange stirring in his chest that he’d experienced earlier in the bar.

 

Attraction was not an uncommon sensation. There were a handful of women he’d met over the years who were appealing but he’d never engaged with any of them. They were as deadly as they were beautiful, like a rare poison, sweet to taste and quick to kill.

 

There were ways around that, of course, but Kylo had never understood the value of falling into bed with an associate. While many of his peers preferred to scratch the itch and move on, he maintained distance. Relationships, even brief ones, complicated things. He didn’t like complications. Like emotions, they got you killed.

 

This woman who sat before him was a mixture of sunlight and sin. She was snarky, efficient, and above all else, confident. If her alluring features weren’t enough to draw him in, her unpredictability was. The combination was intoxicating and above all, dangerous.

 

Which was why he took his leave the moment he finished his drink.

 

Like the First Order, Kylo had two rules. No emotions. No complications.

 

And tangoing with the Scavenger would break both.

 

* * *

 

Rey woke the next morning without an alarm. She’d always been an early riser, a habit born of necessity. When she’d admitted to Kylo Ren how she had taken Plutt’s life, she had left out the finer details. It was those details that had her checking out before the sun rose on the Big Apple.

 

She had work to do.

 

“We hope you enjoyed your stay, Ms. Niima,” the concierge gave her a curt nod. “Until next time. Thank you for staying at the Continental.”

 

“Thank you, Maz.” Rey tipped the older woman. “Be seeing you.”

 

She strolled out of the lobby, the heels of her boots clipping against the marble flooring as she went.

 

It was a quick ride to Brooklyn where the Outpost was located. While the subway screeched and whined towards her destination, Rey pulled her hair back. More than once, it had been suggested that she get her chestnut locks cut. Other females in her profession claimed it made things easier. Rey wasn’t sure what her hairstyle had to do with anything. It hadn’t slowed her down in the past.

 

When the subway stopped at 53rd Street Station, she rose from her seat and departed with the other passengers. Falling into step with the throng of commuters, Rey slipped her hands into her gloves and proceeded towards the salvage yard. In a city this large, it was easy to disappear, become one with the masses. It helped her avoid detection and trackers.

 

Upon her arrival, Rey ignored the scores of yellow tape and ducked beneath the police warnings to enter the decaying building. The business was a front for Plutt’s true pursuit, which was her reason for returning today.

 

With a swift kick, she broke the rusty old lock off his office door. The room stank of stale booze and sweat, the same as its former owner. Rey strolled around the wooden desk in the center of the room, squatting down to the bottom drawer. She yanked it open, breaking another cheap lock to reveal the hanging files inside.

 

They were all forged documents, meant to lead any investigator astray. She knew the thinly veiled lie worked. Most law enforcement officers were overworked and underpaid. A bribe here, a promotion there and they were in the pocket of whatever crime boss was currently calling the shots in the city. Plutt may have been a cretin but he had friends in high places. His supply kept them entertained and their business kept him from living behind bars.

 

Until Rey put him in his rightful place. Six feet under.

 

She snaked her hand behind the rear wall of the drawer, slim fingers feeling around for the latch. Her nail caught on the metal tab and she smiled.

 

_Clever, but not clever enough._

 

The backing fell away to reveal another file. Rey retrieved it, made a copy, then tucked the original back in the drawer among Plutt’s other files. She stuffed the copy inside her worn leather jacket.

 

As she straightened up, she heard the slam of a car door from out front.

 

Rey climbed up on top of the desk, popping the vent cover off the ceiling. The ventilation shafts had been her favorite hiding spot as a child. She knew them as well as she knew her away around hot-wiring a car. Grabbing hold of the edges, Rey hauled herself up, making sure to replace the vent cover in its original position.

 

Below her, New York’s finest entered the office to continue their investigation of Plutt’s gruesome death. They had no idea his murderer was mere feet above their heads.

 

Rey watched them for a few moments, waiting for them to find the evidence of Plutt’s true crime. A green detective by the name of Storm was the one to discover it, shouting for the first officer on the scene, Dameron, to join him. As the two poured over the files, Rey shimmied herself down the shaft to the exit in the alleyway.

 

She had one more stop to make before catching her flight.

 

* * *

 

Kylo tapped his fingers along his thigh, counting down the minutes until take-off.

 

Bucharest was an eleven-hour flight from JFK and with the seven-hour time difference, he was going to be fighting jet lag. Logic told him to rest while he could. The contract he was going after would require reconnaissance and at least one full day of planning. Sleep was essential to his success.

 

Aside of him, Chewie was drooling over his flight attendant supplied pillow, already in airplane mode. He knew what was required, just as his master did.

 

But Kylo couldn’t find rest.

 

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were her hazel eyes, peering up at him through thick lashes. He could smell the daisy perfume she wore. Or was it her soap? He could feel the warmth of her finger on his cheek. His nerves buzzed with the electric jolt of excitement. He felt himself changing. It was as though he was coming alive or like he was waking from a deep slumber, as if he’d never truly lived before now.

 

Up until yesterday evening, Kylo had followed a routine — a successful routine, albeit a dull one.

 

Each morning he rose with his alarm, completed his morning run, followed by a half hour of weight lifting at the gym, a set of push-ups, and finally a set of crunches. Then it was time for breakfast and a shower, after which he would put on a fresh new suit and begin his work. After his task was completed, he’d have dinner, a drink, and hit the sheets. It was simple and effective.

 

In the fifteen years he’d been working, he had never been given a reason to deter from his carefully structured path.

 

Until now.

 

The Scavenger had gotten under his skin. Like coarse sand, which he could never seem to get rid of after being on the beach, she remained a tiny annoyance, as constant as the pull of the tide.

 

It was her steady voice, self-assured and concise as she spoke to him. It was her hair, typically tied up in a series of tight, neat buns. It was the uneven patch of freckles dotting her cheeks. It was the way she moved, smooth like her voice and just as distracting. It was everything about her and nothing at all.

 

Because she was nothing.

 

He kept reminding himself of that fact. She was a nobody from nowhere, a girl without a family, a loner without a past. There was no reason for her to have an effect on him.

 

None.

 

So why couldn’t he get her out of his head?

 

“Mr. Ren?”

 

His eyes flickered up from where he’d been absently stroking the face of his Breitling watch.

 

The stewardess’s name tag read Kaydel. She’d been on his flights before, a First Order operative.

 

“We’re preparing for take-off,” she reported. “The captain sends his regards, along with this.” She handed him a glass of whiskey.

 

“Thank you,” he muttered in acceptance, before passing a golden coin across his tray table to her.

 

Kaydel discreetly pocketed the coin. “Have a wonderful flight, sir.”

 

He waited until she was busy with another passenger, then proceeded to toss back the full glass in one swallow. He hoped it would help him find sleep.

 

But as he drifted off, Kylo saw the same pair of piercing hazel eyes.

 

* * *

 

Rey stood under the alcove of the New York Harbor shipping office, staring out at the docks. According to the file, Plutt’s merchandise was in container 05251977. When she spotted it, an ugly shade of red with graffiti marks on the side, Rey strolled out of the shade and into the sunlight.

 

The dock workers weren’t suspicious of her motives as she passed. Compared to the numerous illegal dealings they witnessed, a woman strutting around wasn’t worth raising the alarm. However, given her slender frame, her heeled boots, and her strut, she didn’t go completely unnoticed. One guy let out a catcall. Another gave a whistle while his buddies snickered. She remained unaffected. Men were easy enough to manipulate, especially the ones who made the mistake of thinking she was prey.

 

Such was the fate of Unkar Plutt.

 

Unfortunately, the dock workers weren’t aware of her hand in the man’s death. One approached Rey, a cocky grin plastered on his face as he fell into step with her.

 

“Where you going?” he asked.

 

Rey didn’t hear his question, her mind consumed with calculations. When she opened the container she’d have precious minutes to secure the merchandise hidden inside. Thanks to her aid, law enforcement officers would be descending upon the dock within the hour. While their help would ensure Plutt’s business died with him, she needed to intercept what she’d come for before then.

 

“Hey! Hey, I’m talking to you, girlie.”

 

A hand grabbed her upper arm, roughly turning her towards the dock worker. Swift as lightning, Rey grabbed him back, using his own force against him to spin him around and shove him up against the nearest container. She flicked open her Emerson blade, pressing it just hard enough against the pulse of his throat to not draw blood.

 

“Do I look interested to you?” she asked calmly, the same way she addressed Maz that morning during checkout.

 

“N-no, ma'am,” the man stuttered, his face paler than the sheets on her bed.

 

“That’s right.” She smiled, sheathing her knife and returning it to her holster. “Now, I suggest you get back to work.”

 

“Y-yeah, o-okay,” he stumbled over his agreement, slowly backing away from her.

 

“And the next time you touch a woman, you better have her consent. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Y-Yes, m-ma'am.” The dock worker nodded.

 

“Go,” she ordered.

 

He took off, hurrying away so fast that he tripped over his own feet and fell. Rey watched him until he was out of sight.

 

Rey checked her watch. The altercation had cost her minutes, which was time she didn’t have. It would have to be Plan B then. Phasma wasn’t going to be happy. Annoyed, Rey withdrew her pistol and fired two shots at the twin locks. She flipped the latches over, letting the broken pieces fall to the cement. Swinging the two levers upwards, she heard the container groan. She yanked the right door open.

 

Whimpers and hushed voices reached her ears. Rey felt her stomach roiled but she shoved the old feelings down. She opened the container’s left door, bathing the interior in light.

 

“It’s okay,” she called to the girls inside. “You’re safe now.”

 

Not one of the victims moved, preferring to cling to one another instead. Rey couldn’t look in their eyes, afraid she’d see a version of herself in them. That girl was dead but the ghost of her former life continued to haunt Rey. She saw her in the soulless eyes of other trafficking victims or in the starving glance of street beggars. It was impossible to avoid no matter how many thugs she crossed off the contract board.

 

“I won’t hurt you.” She stretched her hand out. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

 

Finally, one of the girls — she couldn’t have been more than fifteen — staggered forward. Her blond hair was matted and her blue eyes were bloodshot from crying. She was barefoot, barely clothed in her tattered nightgown with no undergarments. Rey felt the familiar sickening twist in her stomach again.

 

“What’s your name?”  

 

“Kacha,” the girl responded. She placed her hand in Rey’s and took her first step into the sunlight.

 

One by one, the rest followed until the shipping container was empty. They huddled around her, the first person who had shown them compassion since their abduction.

 

“We don’t have much time,” Rey informed them. “Here’s what’s about to happen.”

 

That evening on the news, the FBI announced the safe recovery of thirty victims from an international human trafficking ring. No one but the girls knew the name of their true savior, a nobody from nowhere who was currently flying to her next assignment in Tunis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [Sanguis Sanguinem Meum Fanart](https://wewantreylo.tumblr.com/search/reylo%20fanart%20blood%20of%20my%20blood)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for being such a supportive friend and listening to all my ideas for this fic.

 

Kylo sat on the edge of his mattress at the Continental Bucharest. The balcony to his room was open, allowing the fresh air and the noise of the city’s nightlife pour in. He listened, only half-interested, to groups of pedestrians shouting on the sidewalk below. Club-goers and bar enthusiasts were attempting to find each other, as well as their destination.

 

The day had been productive, starting with closing the contract on Moden Canady and ending with an additional contract on Edrison Peavey. Individuals on the contract board usually had connections to other individuals listed but it was a rare treat to be able to metaphorically and literally kill two birds with one stone. Or bullet, as it were. Watching the funds in his account rise exponentially was another treat.

 

Yet, Kylo garnered no joy from the success. Satisfaction slipped through his fingers, as fleeting as the runner’s high he experienced each morning. He held it only for a moment and then that moment passed.

 

Chewie peered up at him from where he lay on the floor, his large eyes full of understanding. Kylo’s dog could sense when his mood changed. It was key when they were traveling, especially during the time spent away from the hallowed grounds of the Continental.

 

Kylo trained the mastiff to heed his commands, no matter how the animal’s instincts demanded he protect his master. Kylo would rather take a bullet than lose the precious connection to his father. It was the one sentiment Kylo permitted himself to have because Han’s final gift to his son had been a puppy — a slobbering, overly affectionate, fifty-pound puppy.

 

Not that anyone knew the story behind the dog.

 

Chewie’s history was a carefully guarded secret. He had arrived at the LA Continental with instructions to deliver him to Kylo Ren. There had been no return address and when the concierge asked the driver where the package had been posted from, he merely shrugged and asked to be sent to Kylo’s room for a signature.

 

After Kylo provided his approval for the delivery, the driver dropped off a carrier. When Kylo opened up the plastic container, Chewie popped out. The eager puppy covered his face in kisses. During his attempts to tell the dog ‘no,’ Kylo spotted a note taped to the rear wall of the carrier. He could recite it from memory.

 

_Kid,_

_I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t the father you needed but you need to talk to someone. You need to find something in this life to love before you lose yourself. Start with this because the Falcon is off limits._

_Dad_

 

Kylo couldn’t remember how many times he’d read that letter. Enough that eventually it was so wrinkled and tear-stained that he’d been forced to get rid of it. It hadn’t mattered. The words were branded on his heart. He’d carry them with him until his dying day.

 

It was early, or late, depending on who you asked. Kylo stalked over to the balcony. He paused in the doorway, partially concealed by the translucent curtains, where he could watch the scene below.

 

The locals were rowdy, crossing the street in front of cars and making obscene hand gestures at the drivers who honked in retaliation. Given the demographics of the area, he wasn’t surprised by their antics. University students flocked to the city looking for ways to blow off steam. As long as they didn’t cause him any issues, Kylo had no problem with it.

 

He returned to his room, closing the balcony doors as he reentered. Chewie raised his head. He followed his master’s movements as he crossed the room.

 

Kylo gazed down at him. “Stay.”

 

Chewie put his head down on the floor.

 

“Good dog.”

 

Kylo left his room to have a drink at the hotel bar. He wasn’t eager to wade in the crowds outside, nor did he feel the need to listen to techno-pop. When he stepped inside the Continental bar, Kylo was greeted by the gentle chords of a violin being played on stage. He was grateful for the traditional approach of the hotel, preferring softer sounds after the busy day.

 

“Ce as putea sa-ti aduc?” the bartender questioned as he sat down.

 

“Whiskey neat,” Kylo ordered.

 

He slid a coin across the countertop before turning in his seat to glance around. The lounge was relatively empty, only a few patrons scattered throughout the room. Kylo shifted back around just as the bartender dropped off his rocks glass.

 

“Mulțumesc.”

 

“Noroc,” the bartender responded.

 

He left Kylo to drink in peace but like most things in his world, peace was an illusion.

 

“Evening, Ren.”

 

“Mitaka,” he nodded in greeting. A slim, dark-haired man took the seat aside him. “How was Belarus?”

 

“Uneventful,” Mitaka answered with a shrug. “Minsk is still occupied and Grodno never changes.”

 

“They haven’t named you the mayor yet?” Kylo questioned dryly. While it wasn’t his preference, some of his colleagues chose to work a certain geographic area. In Mitaka’s case, that was Eastern Europe. “If you’re bored, you could take a contract somewhere else. I’ve heard Fiji is nice.”

 

“The contracts are easy and the vodka is cheap,” his peer replied with a chuckle.

 

Kylo tilted his glass towards the man to cheers him before taking another sip of his whiskey.

 

“I see you’re still drinking that old Corellian swill,” Mitaka remarked, inclining his head towards Kylo’s glass.

 

“I see you still haven’t closed a contract over $500k,” Kylo retorted.

 

“Touché.”

 

The two sat in silence for several minutes, each contemplating things better left unsaid. The burn of the whiskey down his throat distracted Kylo from the pain in his chest. Corellian had been Han Solo’s preferred brand. Kylo inherited his father’s habit, despite the fact he hadn’t inherited his name. It was another closely guarded secret. Over the years, they piled up. One after another.

 

He wondered what his father would think of him taking Chewie along on missions. Han would have probably yelled at Kylo. The majority of their relationship had consisted of fighting. It was how they communicated. They’d never had much in common. For instance, Han had been a scoundrel but he’d never had the constitution to make a career out of contract killing, not the way his son and wife had.

 

Kylo ground his teeth. He hadn’t thought about his mother in a long time. A very long time. He’d heard rumors of her movement, the Resistance, an underground organization which operated outside of the First Order. They were referred to as rebels. It wasn’t a compliment.

 

Choosing to move under the table was like prodding a sleeping bear — asking for trouble. Kylo never understood why his mother had chosen to break off on her own. They hadn’t spoken in years, not since she handed him off to her twin brother to start his training.

 

Unconsciously, his hand balled into a fist where it rested on his thigh. _Luke Skywalker_. If Kylo ever saw his uncle again, he’d fire every round he had on that man. It was what he deserved.

 

“Did you hear about what happened in New York?” Mitaka questioned, breaking Kylo out of his murderous thoughts.

 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he muttered in a bored tone.

 

“Three new contracts opened up after Plutt was taken down. Teedo, Ducain, and the Irving brothers. Rumor has it that one girl is going after them all. Some people think she has a personal vendetta against them,” he informed Kylo. “But I think it has more to do with the contract amounts. They are each priced around $1.5M.”

 

Kylo stared at Mitaka. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked. “What girl?”

 

* * *

 

“It’s the motivator,” the mechanic notified Rey.

 

“You mean the carburetor,” she corrected his English.

 

He was leaning over an old Harley she’d stolen from a chop shop down the road. If he had any suspicions where the bike had come from, he didn’t voice them. He worked the motorcycle over for a few minutes then straightened up with a smile.

 

“Try it now, sunshine,” he suggested in his native Arabic tongue.

 

Rey straddled the bike, grabbed the throttle, and heard the engine rumble to life. She preferred to have her own mode of transportation and motorcycles were the most efficient.

 

“Thanks, Bodhi,” she tossed the mechanic a gold coin.

 

“Kuni ‘arakum,” he responded with a salute.

 

Rey grinned, revving the engine before she peeled out of his garage.

 

She loved the feel of the powerful, metal beast beneath her. The roar of the machine felt like a battle cry and she increased the speed until she cut across the desert so fast she was like a mirage disappearing and reappearing.

 

Wedged between the Sahara and the Mediterranean, the North African country held the ruins of ancient civilizations, countless artifacts, and was home to Plutt’s partner.

 

Teedo Shah, the main supplier for Plutt’s trafficking ring. He was also the man who had taken Rey off the streets of Westminster thirteen years ago. He was the reason she’d never found her parents, lying that he’d help her find them. He was to blame for the years she’d spent laboring under Plutt’s wrath. And all the while, he’d been getting paid for his depravity. Teedo was a worm. Rey was looking forward to squashing him under the sole of her boot.

 

As she drove her bike through the Medina quarter of the city, her burner vibrated inside her jacket. Three short buzzes. Phasma’s ringtone.

 

Keeping her eyes on the pedestrian traffic, Rey repositioned her hands with one in the middle of the handlebars and the other free to accept the call.

 

“Phas, I can explain—.”

 

“Save it, Rey,” the blonde snapped.

 

“I didn’t have time to give them—.”

 

“When you came to me looking for a way out, looking for work, what did I say?”

 

Rey rolled her eyes, grateful the woman couldn’t see her irritated expression. “You asked me if I knew what I really wanted.”

 

“Correct,” Phasma replied in a clipped tone. “Now, do you recall what you told me?”

 

“I said I never wanted to be a victim again,” Rey answered.

 

“And I taught you how to become one with the night. I brought you into my home, gave you shelter, gave you nourishment, and gave you the training you required. I made you who you are today,” Phasma stated evenly.

 

Rey clenched her jaw, rage boiling inside her at Phasma’s condescending tone.

 

“You weren’t the one who nearly drowned in that tank. You weren’t the one who stepped in front of the firing squad and took a bullet to the chest. You weren’t the one who made a deal with the devil to save our hides. That was me,” Rey reminded her tersely. “We have an agreement, Phasma. That agreement is mutually beneficial, which means it serves both of us. However, if it stops serving me, I’m out. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Tread carefully, Rey,” Phasma warned. “It almost sounds like you’re talking about a rebellion and you know how the First Order Council feels about rebels.”

 

“Your concern is noted,” Rey said sarcastically.

 

“Just make sure the next batch comes to me first,” Phasma huffed into the phone. “They deserve a fighting chance.”

 

“Sure thing, Gwen,” Rey agreed, smirking.

 

“Rey! How many times have I told you not to call me—.”

 

Rey slammed the pad of her thumb against the screen, ending the call.

 

When it buzzed again, she didn’t pick up.

 

* * *

 

Kylo strolled along the Dambovita River with Chewie. The mastiff didn’t require a leash, never straying more than a couple of yards away from his master.

 

The clubs had finally closed around five. Within thirty minutes, the streets were quiet, lined with litter instead of shouting students searching for a place to party. Unable to sleep, he’d risen from his bed and decided to take a walk.

 

Chewie trotted ahead of him, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as if he was smiling. Kylo wasn’t smiling. His mind had been replaying Mitaka’s words all night.

 

“They’re calling her the Harbinger’s Mistress. The last contract she closed was done purely with a blade. No bullets. I haven’t heard of that kind of mutilation since Kiev,” Mitaka had told him.

 

Kylo pursed his lips. Mutilation wasn’t how he would have described what he’d seen at the Outpost. The feel of her knife on his skin has been precise and fluid. One swift swipe and he was bleeding from his forehead to his ribs. She’d left him lying there, too shocked to move. Mere moments later he heard the screams. Her next victim.

 

He’d never heard her creep up on him, never saw her pull the knife until it was too late.

 

She wasn’t the harbinger’s mistress. She was death itself.

 

Unbidden, the image of the scavenger in all black appeared in his mind. The corners of his mouth turned up. Maybe he could convince her to visit his tailor. It was a good time of year to travel to Milan and Felix always made time for him. Kylo happened to be his best customer.

 

Seeing the tailor would also give him a reason to check in on Varykino. The lakeside villa had once belonged to his grandmother. After he closed his first multimillion-dollar contract, he’d purchased the property.

 

He hadn’t been inside since he bought the house but Kylo paid for a housekeeper and a groundskeeper to maintain the gardens. He refused to let the villa wither and die the way the former owner had.

 

The way he was.

 

The life he lived had a cost — a cost which couldn’t be paid in gold coins or markers. No, the path he’d chosen cost more than money or blood.

 

His choice cost him his soul.

 

Kylo wondered when his time came, would it be her eyes he saw before death pulled its dark veil over him. And if so, which of them would be the one to pull the trigger?

 

* * *

 

The night fell upon the city, blanketing it with shadows where monsters played their game of hide and seek. As she strolled toward Oasis, Rey considered herself a monster. She knew the shadow games well, having lived on both sides — predator and prey.

 

It had been years since she’d been the latter. Tonight, however, her true nature was hidden beneath a slinky dress, a thin layer of makeup, and a pair of stilettos. Black on black, a silhouette in the night coming to claim its latest victim.

 

Bodhi’s cousin worked the door at the dance club. He’d been the one to tip her off to Teedo’s whereabouts. It seemed his proclivity for flesh had no limits.

 

Rey’s body thrummed with anticipation. She could feel the cold metal of her blades pressing to her skin as she walked. Sheathed in her thigh holster, the set of throwing knives remained tucked out of sight. Had her dress been a few inches shorter, the moonlight would have glinted off the stainless steel.

 

Plutt had begged for his life when she came for him. She suspected that Teedo would do the same if she permitted him to speak at all.

 

After her call with Phasma, Rey had been flustered. While she wouldn’t go as far as to call the statuesque blonde her friend, Rey did dub her as an ally.

 

Anything more than that was a foolish notion.

 

And Rey had never been a fool.

 

That term was reserved for people who crossed her. People like Plutt and Teedo.

 

Oasis was situated by Lac Sud de Tunis, which meant the VIP area was on the roof to give their guests a view of the water. Rey smiled provocatively at the bouncer, who waved her inside without hesitation. Following the stairs, she made her way up to the bar.

 

The evening air was crisp. The temperature dropped once the sun had set. Her bare back felt the chill of the breeze as it danced across the exposed area before gliding over her shoulders. Attentions, male and female alike, centered on Rey when she emerged from the lower floors. With a catlike grin, she sauntered over to the bar, taking in the layout of the place as she went.

 

She caught Teedo in her peripherals, lounging under a tented section of the roof with his crew. He was too busy drinking and fraternizing with the half-naked girl at his side to notice Rey. It wasn’t until she visited his corner, a drink in her hand, that he bothered to glance up.

 

“Well, if it isn’t the little sand rat,” he sneered. His tone rang with disgust but his eyes were filled with fear.

 

She polished off her whiskey, setting the glass down on the table separating her from her mark. “Leave us,” Rey ordered his companions.

 

The girl took off instantly, not bothering to give Teedo a backward glance as she did. His minions chose to remain.

 

“So,” she said with a sigh, “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

 

Two of Teedo’s guys lunged for her. Rey dropped to the floor, her hands snaking up her legs to retrieve her blades. As she rose back up, she pivoted around, dragging the knives across her attacker’s torsos, as she spun.

 

Blood splattered on the rooftop, staining the weathered stone crimson. Rey twirled her blades, falling into a defensive stance as she waited for the next strike. The remainder of Teedo’s men, a pudgy guy with a tattoo on his balding head and a wiry guy with a machete strapped to his back, glared at her.

 

The first two assailants lay on either side of her, clutching their stomachs. They would bleed out before the authorities made it to the club.

 

Teedo eyed her warily. “Revenge is a surefire way to get killed in this business,” he taunted her.

 

“Maybe,” she purred. “But it’s _so_ much more satisfying.”

 

“Take her out,” he ordered his guys.

 

They approached her and Rey kicked off her heels and ran forward before dropping to slide through the pudgy guy’s legs, in an effort to avoid a hit from his colleague as she did. The wiry man mistakenly shot his counterpart. Teedo hissed, scrambling with his cell.

 

Rey threw one of her knives at him, narrowly missing his wrist to pin him down by the material of his shirt. “Stay put,” she demanded.

 

He stared at her, horrified.

 

Wiry opened fire, earning shouts and cries from the club goers who, up until this point hadn’t been paying attention to the scuffle in the corner. Rey rolled away, dodging the rain of bullets. From where she ended up, she threw her last two knives — one at Wiry and one at Pudgy.

 

Her blades hit each target perfectly. Both men collapsed to their knees, grasping at their jugulars where fresh streams of blood spurted forth.

 

Rey turned around and returned to Teedo’s side. “You little bitch,” he snarled, frantically attempting to pry his arm free.

 

“Language,” she reprimanded as she leaned down to pull her knife free of the stone.

 

“What are you trying to prove, huh?”

 

“I don’t have anything to prove,” Rey replied calmly. She plopped down next to him, spinning her blade between her fingertips.

 

“Then why do it?” Teedo inquired.

 

“Why did you do what you did to me?” she questioned.

 

“It was business,” he answered.

 

Rey smirked. “So is this.”

 

When the authorities arrived on the scene, they wouldn’t find a single sign of the girl who butchered five men. She disappeared into the night as if she’d never existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our girl is 100% badass  
> 
> 
> Who caught the TFA reference in this one?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up in this chapter but it isn't going to go the way you think...or is it?
> 
> Thank you to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works).

 

Rain poured down, drenching the city streets. Kylo jogged along the sidewalk, Chewie at his side. The Continental Seattle was located between Pike Place and First Hill. While the area was known for its dreary days and consistent rainfall, the weather couldn’t have come at a worse time.

 

He’d been in the middle of tracking Ducain. The man was fascinated by endangered animals, or more accurately, what income a controlled hunt with an endangered animal could generate. He’d been in the middle of negotiations at the Woodland Park Zoo when the clouds opened up. Concerned about the state of his suit, Ducain rushed to his town car. 

 

Kylo wasn’t able to hail a cab in time. He lost the mark.

 

“Dammit,” he grumbled.

 

He’d tried to locate Ducain at one of his usual hang-outs, the Cantina or Hutt Palace. Both times he came up empty and was forced to choose between getting on the subway in his soaked suit or walk the dozens of city blocks back to the hotel. Considering his mood, he chose the walk. Besides, Chewie needed exercise.

 

Bypassing the concierge desk, Kylo went straight to his room. No one dared to enter the elevator with him, the scowl on his face serving as a deterrent. Only Chewie seemed impervious to his vexed expression.

 

And the scavenger.

 

Kylo hadn’t seen her since he checked in, yet he knew she was here. He could _feel_ it.

 

The elevator chimed, the doors opening to reveal his floor. Dutifully, Chewie followed him to their room.

 

Once inside, Chewie made himself comfortable on the floor by the couch. Kylo loosened his tie, toeing off his shoes. He stripped off each piece of his suit, letting it fall to the floor. He’d call down to the concierge and have the suit sent out for dry cleaning.

 

The heat from the shower covered the bathroom mirror with condensation. Steam rose towards the ceiling light, the particles dancing around each other as he moved under the spray. He closed his eyes and arched, the water hit the center of his back, right where knots were forming from the tension he’d carried all day.

 

Kylo had travelled to Seattle under the guise of chasing a contract. Tritt Opan was a former naval officer turned hitman for Hux. Ironically, it was Hux who opened the contract for Opan’s demise. It was under a million dollars, which normally meant Kylo wouldn’t be interested.

 

Except, Opan was located in Seattle, Ducain‘s hometown, and where Ducain was, Rey would be.

 

He hadn’t caught sight of her, not once all day. Kylo tracked Ducain around the city from the moment he left his luxury condo, to his coffee date with his mistress, to the country club where he kissed his wife goodbye, and finally to the zoo. Since Ducain hadn’t gone to the nightclubs, Kylo assumed he’d returned to his condo. He’d have to wait until the man left to continue his hunt.

 

With Opan in the morgue, Kylo could no longer lie to himself about his purpose for staying in the city. He wanted to see _her_ , the girl with a penchant for death.

 

To say he was curious would be an understatement. He was completely _enamored_. He’d never met anyone like Rey. Kylo couldn’t comprehend the enigma. Everything about her, including her name, yearned to be one with the light and yet she was drawn to the dark, just as he was. She basked in it, able to blend into the nothingness it provided and draw upon its mysterious power. He was captivated by her abilities. She trapped him in her orbit, like a spider weaving an intricate net to catch a fly.

 

Turning the water off, he stepped out of the shower. After toweling off, he went to his closet, pulling out a fresh suit for the evening.

 

Chewie perked up as he fastened his cuff links. 

 

“Stay,” Ben commanded.

 

The dog laid back down.

 

“Good dog.”

 

* * *

 

Rey tapped her finger on the end of the pool stick, counting the seconds that passed as she lined up her shot. With a jab of her arm, she sent the eight ball into the corner pocket. 

 

Playing with Snap always ended one of two ways, either her attention to detail irritated him to the point he lost his edge or her flirting made him throw the game. Either way, the result was always the same.

 

“You want the usual?” Snap asked as he returned to his spot behind the bar.

 

“Sure,” Rey answered with a grin. 

 

She reset the table, pleased to have won herself a free round. Even if money was no longer a problem, she continued to live a frugal life. Why waste what she had earned when she could get what she needed for free? The survivor in her demanded that she always plan for the worst. Anything better than that was like a bonus. 

 

Phasma called her a pessimist. Rey thought of herself as a realist. 

 

Which was why she had agreed to a meeting with Ducain.

 

The man was cunning. Rey had to give him that. He thought by offering her a job he could avoid her blade. He couldn’t, but she led him to believe she was considering his offer. If she could get him to let his guard down, he wouldn’t employ an entire team of operatives and Rey would have a better chance of taking him out.

 

Currently, Ducain was traveling with a dozen visible bodyguards, which meant there were at least a half dozen hidden in his vicinity. Rey could guess where most of them would be lurking but she couldn’t fight them all at once. She had to adapt her strategy, and fast. 

 

Ducain was set to arrive within the hour. They had agreed to meet at the hotel, both feeling secure in the Continental’s policy to refrain from spilling blood. It gave Rey time to analyze her target and his entourage. By the time he left this evening, she’d know where to hit him.

 

Smirking to herself, she turned around to retrieve her drink. Her eyes latched onto the man entering the bar.

 

For a split second, they both froze. Kylo Ren stared at her and she stared right back, unblinking. 

 

His lips turned up as he approached her, securing the buttons of his suit jacket. Rey leaned on the pool table, carefully schooling her expression and praying he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating in her chest.

 

“So, this guy walks into a bar and says...” she trailed off, allowing him to provide an explanation.

 

“We never got to finish our conversation the other evening,” he replied simply.

 

She shrugged. “As I recall, Mr. Ren, you’re the one who walked out.”

 

“I had business to attend to.” His delivery was smooth and Rey’s smirk became genuine.

 

“I’m sure,” she responded sarcastically.

 

“I was about to go for a walk. Join me,” he suggested.

 

She raised a brow at his candor. “Let me grab my jacket.”

 

“The one you’re wearing?”

 

Her pulse quickened at his words, not permitting her a chance to slip away. He was dangerous.

 

And _thrilling_.

 

“Right.” She pushed down the rush of fear, brandishing a confident smile.

 

“Still want that drink?” Snap called to her from the bar.

 

“Make it a double,” Rey answered, her eyes never leaving Kylo’s face.

 

He grinned wolfishly. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

 

Rey took a seat at the bar, pointedly ignoring Kylo as she took a long sip of her whiskey. In this country, she wasn’t of legal age to drink but the Continental operated under the same set of rules as the First Order.

 

No killing on Continental grounds.

 

Each marker must be paid. 

 

Anything outside of those rules was a gray area. No one in the hotel bar batted an eyelash at the nineteen-year-old assassin enjoying a double of Corellian.

 

“Odd preference for a young woman,” Kylo commented.

 

“Contract killing is highly lucrative,” she stated, purposely misunderstanding his remark.

 

“Corellian is an old brand. Not many people select it,” he continued.

 

She shrugged. There was no reason to share with him her choice. Personal stories weren’t her forte.

 

“I only know of one man who drank the stuff, besides myself,” Kylo added after a moment.

 

Rey unconsciously tightened her grip on the rocks glass. He couldn’t possibly know. No one knew. Well, no one alive. She’d made sure of that.

 

“I like the bottle design,” she said with a huff, hoping it would be enough to date his curiosity. 

 

His eyes flickered to the decanter on display, then back to his own glass. He made a humming noise as though he didn’t believe her but moved on. “What brings you to Seattle?”

 

“Sounds like you already know.” Rey raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Ducain.”

 

“If you’re thinking about taking him out yourself, let me remind you what happened last time you went up against me,” she replied smugly.

 

He chuckled. “I remember.” 

 

“Good.”

 

Their conversation lapsed into silence once more.

 

Rey noticed the way Snap continued to sneak glances at them. Her irregular behavior was sparking interest. With a sigh, she finished her drink, then slid her empty glass towards the end of the bar.

 

“See you, Snap.”

 

“Have a nice evening,” he bid her goodnight.

 

She walked out of the bar, not needing to check to know he was following her.

 

“I need to pick something up from my room first,” he voice stopped her.

 

“I have an appointment,” Rey informed him.

 

“We’ll be back in time.”

 

Wordlessly, she fell into step with him, taking the elevator up to his floor so he could retrieve his dog. The mastiff, who probably weighed more than she did, gave her a cursory sniff.

 

She flipped her hand over, palm facing up, allowing him to come to her. After a couple more sniffs, he nudged his head under her hand, begging for attention. Rey relented and scratched him behind the ears. His fur was soft. She wondered if Kylo shared his hair care routine with his dog.

 

“Chewie, come.”

 

The dog trotted between them, slightly closer to Kylo than Rey as the trio made their way to the lobby.

 

Seattle was known for many things, rain being one of the most prominent. Tonight, it was a steady drizzle. Rey declined the concierge’s offer of an umbrella, preferring to keep her hands free.  A walk with Death warranted few precautions.

 

She spoke first.  “How’d you find me?”

 

“Wasn’t hard.”

 

“The real question is why?” Rey heard the way her voice rose at the end of the sentence, her genuine interest leaking out.

 

“I figured I better find out more about who I was dealing with, in case you were looking to hurt me. _Again_.”

 

She bit her lower lip, keeping her bubble of laughter from escaping. “And you knew I’d come after Ducain so you tracked me here. What’s your verdict?”

 

“Too early to tell,” he responded, though the glint in his eyes said differently. It seemed to Rey that he’d already made up his mind about her. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or concerned by the notion.

 

“Did you collect on a contract while you were in town or did you make the trip solely for recon?” she inquired.

 

“A little of both,” he answered, amused by her forwardness. Then, “Opan.”

 

Rey’s gaze snapped up to his face. “That’s chump change for someone like you.”

 

He grinned. “As I said, I needed to complete some recon. Opan was merely a bonus.”

 

She wasn’t sure how to respond. If she took his answer for what it was, he made it sound like he’d come here for her. That couldn’t be true. Rey was a nobody, hardly worth a passing glance. She certainly wasn’t worth the time Kylo Ren has invested in her.

 

So why was he here?

 

Revenge for her cutting up his face? Intrigue over how she’d gotten the drop on him? A healthy dose of professional competition?

 

Suddenly, his hand was clamped around her wrist and he was pulling her towards him. Rey twisted around, prepared to lock his own wrist at the joint, when he muttered, “Watch the puddle.” 

 

She glanced down, spotting a pothole filled with dirty water.  “Thanks,” Rey muttered. 

 

He released her and they continued on their walk, neither uttering a word. They glided along, two dark silhouettes moving to the pitter-patter of a raining symphony, silent and untouchable as shadows.

 

* * *

 

His walk had done little to tamper his curiosity. When they returned to the Continental, Rey said goodnight and sauntered into the bar. Kylo took Chewie back to his room, then proceeded with his initial plan: recon.

 

In Seattle, the Continental’s bar and restaurant were attached, one sitting above the other, separated by a grand staircase.

 

Kylo entered the quiet area, selecting a seat in the corner. The vantage point allowed him an unobstructed view of the booth where Rey was currently sitting across from Ducain.

 

She seemed completely at ease, the way she’d been on their walk.

 

Until he’d touched her.

 

The swift snap of her hands on his wrist was startling. Her speed was a valuable asset but also a weakness. Blindly engaging an adversary often left one open to counter attacks.

 

Which was why he was in the hotel restaurant in the first place. He had a bad feeling about Ducain. The meeting, while a good opportunity for Rey to learn about her target, was equally beneficial for him to learn about her.

 

Kylo watched the patrons in the bar, identifying which were in Ducain’s pocket. There were three mingling in various areas, stationed by the booth, one by the staircase, and one by each exit. Nine. Ten, if he counted the mark.

 

Ten against one wasn’t favorable odds.

 

_Never tell me the odds._

 

It had been Han Solo’s motto. Kylo couldn’t count the number of times his father had recited that line. The echo of Han's voice made Kylo think his father would have liked Rey. He probably would have made some comment about her being a handful and Kylo would have agreed.

 

The girl was trouble but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

 

She and Ducain were discussing terms. Each time the man gestured with his hands or leaned towards Rey, Kylo stiffened. He didn’t appreciate the way Ducain’s eyes roamed over her body. An ugly twist, like a knife in his gut, had him grimacing until Rey shook her head and rose to leave.

 

Ducain grabbed her arm.

 

Kylo jumped to his feet, reaching for his gun. At the same time, Rey slammed her elbow into Ducain’s ribs and ground the heel of her boot into his foot. Kylo stilled, watching her use the momentum of the attack to spin them both until she had Ducain pinned against the wall.

 

Everyone in the hotel stopped moving. The pianist in the lounge abruptly paused. Silence reigned over the Continental as everyone waited with bated breath to see what the young assassin would do.

 

“If you ever lay a hand on me again, it will be the last thing you do,” she hissed.

 

Ducain’s eyes were wide, each of his bodyguards poised for attack. Rey glanced around, noticing each and every one of them. Then she lifted her eyes to where Kylo was still standing.

 

She smiled.

 

Leisurely, she stepped back from Ducain and released him from her hold.

 

The music started up again. Patrons of both the bar and the restaurant returned to their normal activities. Ducain spat some kind of outraged insult at Rey before storming out of the building, flanked by his men. She watched them leave with a smile still gracing face.

 

She didn’t even wait a full minute to follow.

 

* * *

 

Lying on his stomach, Kylo peered through the scope of his sniper rifle at room 2187. It was dark, as he suspected because the tenant hadn’t yet returned. He looked down at his watch, counting the seconds until she’d walk in and —

 

There she was.

 

Unscathed. There wasn’t a single hair out of place as if she hadn’t just murdered ten men outside. 

 

Rey disappeared into the bathroom. When she re-emerged, her hair was down and she was wrapped in a black silk robe. Kylo felt his blood rush south. 

 

She padded across the carpet in bare feet, unaware that her window provided him with a clear view.

 

He watched her climb on top of her bed, punching the pillows a few times before she pulled out a laptop and began to work.

 

Kylo watched her, studying everything about her from the freckles on her face to the way her brow creased when she read something she didn’t like. He counted the number of times she flexed the balls of her feet. He took note of the way she favored her left side when she repositioned herself.

 

Minutes ticked by and the more he saw the more enraptured he became.

 

A cell phone rang, shattering the silent interlude. Brow furrowed, he dug around in his pocket to find a burner phone. Across the screen, the title ‘Unknown Caller’ flashed.

 

Kylo pressed the green button. “Hello?”

 

“How did you get my room number?”

 

His gaze returned to the view scope to find Rey centered in the window staring directly at him.

 

“When did you drop this into my pocket?” he questioned.

 

“I asked first,” she countered.

 

“Slipping a gold coin to the right person gets you information,” Kylo answered.

 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Rey guessed, lifting her robe up to reveal the black holster on her thigh. Six metal blades rested against her smooth skin, glittering like jewels. Kylo resisted the urge to loosen his shirt collar.

 

“Is that what we are?” he inquired.

 

“I don’t have friends,” she replied.

 

With that, she ended the call and turned away from the window.

 

Rey propped one foot up on the edge of her bed, carefully unbuckling her holster. She repeated the same process on the other side until the full set of knives were laid out neatly on her bedside table.

 

Kylo watched as she let the robe fall off her shoulders, leaving her clothed only in a black lingerie set. Rey turned her back to him so he could see her fingers as they expertly worked to unclasp her bra clasp. Slowly, she slid the strap down before holding it away from her body and dropping the garment to the floor.

 

His breathing became heavy. His eyes were glued to her as she hooked her thumbs through her panties and shimmied them down until she could step out of them.

 

Rey glanced over her shoulder and winked.

 

The lights went out in her room.

 

By the time Kylo switched the scope to the night vision setting, she was gone. 

 

He scanned the room looking for her knives, her clothing, or any other sign of her but the room was as bare as her skin. His eyes searched the other rooms on her floor, trying to locate her. 

 

The burner phone buzzed.

 

Kylo snatched it up, finding one new message waiting for him.

 

From his perch on the rooftop, he heard the roar of a motorcycle. He managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of her back as she rode off into the night. 

 

_Be seeing you..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next up: Kylo has the Technician run a trace on the burner phone and finds out where she is. Will he follow?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing here?” Rey snapped. The last thing she needed was a distraction, especially one dressed like sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for being such a HUGE support on this!
> 
> 7/26/19 Update: Artwork by boomdafunk for this chapter at the end.

 

Rey drove all night in an attempt to quiet the incessant drumming of her heart. What was it about Kylo Ren that made her walk the tightrope of danger? So far, she’d managed to keep her balance between risk and reward but she couldn’t keep it up forever. Eventually, Rey would lose her footing and there would be no one to catch her when she fell.

 

It was a thrill. That’s all it was — the thrill of his proximity, his maddening gaze, and his _massive_ hands.

 

She shivered in the night air, unable to shake the feel of him on her skin. Rey had never been so thankful to have forgotten her gloves. He’d been warm. She hadn’t expected him to be so warm.

 

After he touched her, she couldn’t stop feeling his eyes on her — as she strolled away from him in the lobby, when he stood up in the bar, and from his vantage point on the rooftop across the street. His endless pursuit awakened something inside her. A burning desire she’d never felt before.

 

_Attraction._

 

It was as dangerous as one of her blades and could be just as fatal.

 

Which was why she ran.

 

 _Coward_ , Rey chided herself but she didn’t turn around.

 

She continued towards the airfield, intending to put as much distance between herself and First Order enforcer as possible.

 

* * *

 

Like the girl, the burner phone ran out on him. Kylo took it to the Technician, a stuttering man named DJ, to see if he could recharge the device. The prepaid cell was only equipped for limited use, a carrot on a string to taunt him.

 

_Clever little scavenger._

 

“I-I-I haven’t broken a code this complex in years,” DJ muttered as he peered at the device’s inner workings through a magnifying glass. “Who did you say you got this from?”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

The Technician hummed, continuing his work undeterred by Kylo’s lack of information.

 

If the rumors were true, there were two names left on the girl’s list. Toursant and Vanver Irving lived in France, in a penthouse with a view of Le Jardin du Luxembourg. The twins were a step up from Ducain. They operated as businessmen instead of thugs. Regardless, Kylo knew they’d meet the same fate.

 

What he didn’t know was why he continued to chase after Rey Niima.

 

Obviously, she worked alone. They all did. It was an unwritten rule, along with the one about not having attachments, and never going after the same contract as Kylo Ren. 

 

But she’d broken that rule.

 

And he was about to break another.

 

“Can you recover anything from it?” Kylo questioned the Technician.

 

“P-P-Possibly,” DJ answered. “I-I-It will take time.”

 

“I’ll be back in three days,” Kylo informed him. “I want it ready by then.”

 

“W-W-Where will you be?” 

 

“Paris.”

 

* * *

 

Rey had never been to the “City of Love” and she vowed to never return. 

 

The city was a romantic’s dream. Locks lined each and every waterway. Candles lit all the restaurants. Flowers were in bloom, decorating the streets in bursts of red, pink, and white. Couples shamelessly groped one another while their lips pressed to areas of exposed skin.

 

It was nauseating.

 

Everywhere she looked, she saw dark-haired men in suits. For a moment her pulse would accelerate and she’d shift around to get a better view. In the end, they were never him. Each time she teetered between disappointment and relief. By the end of her second day, the strange twisting sensation in her gut had become a constant nuisance. 

 

Even though she hadn’t eaten, Rey bypassed the restaurant as she strolled through the lobby. She felt an unnatural pull to return to Seattle, which she brushed aside. Her feelings weren’t genuine. It was merely a result of embarrassment over her disastrous window display. It had to be.

 

She decided a shower was in order. The scalding water would soothe her mind and hopefully aid with the jittery flutters she felt dancing across her flesh.

 

Rey entered the narrow space, giving the ornate knob a turn. The pipes groaned at first, a side effect from the old plumbing system hard at work. She waited a moment for the water to rise to the appropriate temperature, then switched the water’s direction from the faucet to the shower head. 

 

When she’d lived at Plutt’s, showers were a privilege and even on the days when she was permitted to shower, there was a time limit. The five-minute exercise in hygiene only had one purpose — to keep her free from illness or risk of infection. At the end of the day, she was property, a good to be sold or traded, and Plutt needed to keep her presentable.

 

That was how her life had been. All things within the Outpost had a purpose and each girl had a price tag, even a scrawny little gutter rat like her. She’d tried proving her worth other ways. She stole cars for parts, hacked the local supermarket’s ATM, and even broke into rival salvage shop. Watto hadn’t caught her but Plutt struck her all the same. 

 

Rey shook her head, stepping under the spray. She wished the water could wash away her memories of that horrid place as easily as it did the stale smell of croissants and brioche.

 

Some nightmares didn’t end when you woke up. Some lived in the daylight, like a brand on her skin, a constant reminder of what had once been.

 

After a few more minutes, Rey turned the water off. She dried herself with a fluffy white towel and wandered into her room. The curtains were drawn shut, despite the perfect view of the city she had been given. She had no interest in a repeat performance, not that she suspected Kylo would follow her.

 

Curiosity only went so far. By now, Rey suspected he had figured out she wasn’t anything special, just a run-of-the-mill orphan who got swept up in the business to avoid starving to death, among other things. There wasn’t anything unique about her, nothing that would hold his interest.

 

Not that she cared.

 

She worked alone. Working in a group, even a partnership, in this life was an unnecessary risk. And monsters weren’t afforded the luxury of friendship. There wasn’t a better term for what she was, for what her life had forced her to become in order to survive. 

 

Her nightmare hadn’t ended. She just chose to become one with the darkness.

 

* * *

 

Au Port du Salut was an upscale nightclub, catering to the upper class of Paris. Unlike other clubs with their strobe lights, fog machines, and techno-pop, Au Port du Salut was a historical establishment. Black and white photographs hung on the stone walls. The seating was upholstered with crimson velvet and a quartet played classical music in the corner.

 

The lounge was a reminder of a more civilized age, back when refinement had meant conducting business over a glass of wine while both parties hid their loaded guns under the table.

 

Rey had never been refined.

 

She’d selected a low-cut cherry red dress. Phasma would have approved of the choice, telling Rey that she needed to dress for success. Tonight would close out her list of targets. To Rey, there was no greater win.

 

The Irving brothers spent the majority of the day projected within the walls of their penthouse, operating under the guise of being upstanding citizens. In the evenings, however, they conducted more fruitful endeavors.

 

Rey smiled to herself upon entering Au Port du Salut. She imagined their bank account had taken a hit since she had eliminated their supply chain. Without product, they couldn’t keep their customers satisfied. It had only been a couple of days, but in a society driven by the need for instant gratification, a couple of days was a lifetime. She figured they were getting desperate.

 

Strolling across the marble floor, Rey let her gaze dance across the patrons. Each was dressed in fine material with expensive accessories shimmering in the candlelight to accent their status. Most of them were seated, enjoying a late dinner while a few mingled at the bar and the rest danced hand in hand to the live music.

 

Rey paused to watch one couple. They moved effortlessly, completely in sync with one another. When he stepped back, she entered the space in front of him, a balance of give and take across the dance floor. There was a rhythm to their motions, an equality that had her bewitched. 

 

“May I?” A voice like silk questioned, as a hand came to rest upon her waist. 

 

Rey shifted her gaze to a familiar pair of chocolate orbs. Kylo smiled. Like her, he’d put on his best evening wear. The tailored suit was designed to his singular tastes: black on black. She couldn’t deny how well it flattered him. With his pale skin, the sharp contrast lent itself to his deadly persona. 

 

He guided her out onto the floor, taking her silence as consent. It wasn’t until they began to move that Rey’s brain caught up with her. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Rey snapped. The last thing she needed was a distraction, especially one dressed like sin.

 

“Hello to you too.”

 

“Kylo?”

 

“You’re in over your head, sweetheart,” he warned as he lowered his face to hers until his lips were right against her ear. She felt heat creep up the back of her neck, whether from his endearment or his proximity Rey couldn’t be sure. “You need backup.”

 

“I don’t need anything from you,” she retorted angrily.

 

“Let’s agree to disagree on that one, shall we?”

 

He led her through across the dance floor, stepping in time with the music. Rey was acutely aware of his hand on her lower back. It was so broad it spanned from hip to hip. His other hand held her gently, far gentler than he had any reason to.

 

“Are you following me?” she inquired sarcastically.

 

His one-word reply was an amused, “Yes.”

 

Heat burned in her core, working its way up her spine to flush her cheeks with color.

 

“Why?” She hated the way her voice came out softer, less abrasive than before.

 

“I have a proposition for you,” he shared as he drew her body closer to his own. Rey sucked in a breath, feeling the contour of his firm chest against her own. “Join me.”

 

“What?”

 

“You have talent,” Kylo explained. “Your skills are beyond anyone else in the field, with the exception of myself. I could teach you.”

 

“I don’t need a teacher,” she scoffed. “Besides I already know everything I need to know about you.”

 

His lips quirked up in a smile. “You do?” Rey narrowed her eyes. He chuckled, “Ah, you do.”

 

The music played on and Rey found herself following his lead as they continued their dance.

 

“Where is Chewie?” she asked.

 

Kylo’s mouth twitched. “Worried?”

 

Rey shrugged indifferently. “Curious.”

 

“I left him in my room, in case things got rough,” he divulged.

 

“Is it worth it?” she questioned. He studied her face for a moment longer than necessary. “The complication of forming an attachment,” Rey clarified.

 

Something in her words struck him and he instantly released her. His eyebrows pinched together. Then he was walking off the dance floor without so much as a ‘goodbye.’

 

Rey ignored how much his abruptness stung. After all, that was what she’d wanted. 

 

_Right?_

 

Shaking it off, she turned her attention back to her marks. Toursant was in the far corner, lazy wisps of smoke circling him as he chatted to one of the waiters. Vanver stood at the bar, leaning on his forearms as he stared into his glass as if it held the answers of the universe.

 

She strolled up to him, winking at one of their handlers as she passed.

 

“Soirée, beau.”

 

Vanver looked up, his lips pulling into a smile until he realized who greeted him. 

 

“C’est toi,” he said in fearful awe.

 

“En chair et en os.” She smiled wickedly. 

 

“Gardes—.”

 

Rey silenced his call for help, by wrapping one arm around his torso and withdrawing her Emerson knife with her free hand. Her hazel eyes locked into four men, all of whom were too far away to prevent her from killing their boss.

 

“Tell them to stand down,” she ordered Vanver from where she stood behind him.

 

“Demissionner,” he obliged.

 

“You, your brother, and I need to have a little chat,” Rey explained. “Know anywhere we can go without—.” She paused, to press the tip of her blade against his carotid. A warning to one of the guards who was attempting to pull his gun. Vanver motioned for his guards to toss their weapons to the floor. “—without any interruptions?”

 

“En haut,” he answered nervously.

 

“Perfect. Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t aware of how many turns he’d taken or how long he’d been walking. All he was aware of was his pulse pounding in his ears and her voice, as if his mind had recorded her words and the playback was stuck on repeat. 

 

The complication of forming an attachment. 

 

The double meaning wasn’t lost on him. What he’d asked of her, what he’d been searching for, could end them both. It was unknown territory, not just for him, but for her as well. Pursuing her had been reckless. It was the single most idiotic thing he’d ever done. 

 

Instinct told Kylo to go to CDG, board a flight, and forget he’d ever come here. Stubborn pride kept him moving forward. He didn’t regret his choice because as right as Rey was to question him, he knew he was equally right.

 

Her talents served her well but Rey didn’t possess the experience to recognize when her strategy wouldn’t work. Up until now, she’d been able to adapt. She knew her targets and their weaknesses. She exploited them.

 

He’d played the same game as a novice. On the day his luck had run out, he’d nearly died. It had been sheer determination of will that kept him from succumbing to Death’s siren call.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

Kylo answered with a brisk, “Yes?”

 

“S-Sir? I have something,” the Technician revealed.

 

“What is it?” 

 

“The phone only received one incoming call apart from the one you picked up,” DJ informed him. “I-I-I traced the number to Canto Bight Casino.”

 

“Phasma’s place in Cantonica?”

 

“Yes, sir,” the man confirmed. His curiosity was reignited. What ties did the scavenger have to the casino owner? “Thank you, DJ. Forward all incoming calls and messages to this phone,” Kylo instructed him.

 

“I’ll take care of it right away.”

 

With a click, he disconnected and found himself staring at steps of Sacré-Cœur. 

 

The sanctuary was bathed in pure golden light, unlike the artificial neon signs of the buildings he’d passed on his way through Montmartre. The area surrounding the holy basilica was filled with sinners, varying from the sex workers to the migrants trying to hustle tourists. Above it all, Sacré-Cœur stood alone in the night, together with the city but apart, like Rey.

 

She was part of the First Order, part of the Phasma’s side project, part of Plutt’s ring, and yet she wasn’t. She’d stepped outside of all of it, ignoring the rules to lead a life of her own making. Rey wasn’t on a path to serve the table. She was on a path to break it.

 

Suddenly, his future was clear.

 

He knew what he had to do. 

 

* * *

 

She fell into her room, the pain in her back searing with an intensity that had her vision whitening out. Rey slammed her door shut, collapsing aside her bed. Each breath came out as hiss, her jaw clenched as she worked through the laundry list of things she needed to do before she lost consciousness.

 

Sterilize wound.

 

Remove bullet.

 

Cauterize wound.

 

Bandage wound.

 

Drink water.

 

Call the Doc.

 

Flashes of the shoot-out played in her mind, the events haphazardly stitched together to form an incomplete picture. 

 

_She followed the Irving brothers upstairs into a large loft. Plastic tarps covered all the furniture and blankets were laid out on the floor._

 

_“Remodeling?” Rey asked._

 

_“Something like that,” Toursant replied, his eyes skirting the room._

 

_All the hairs on her arms stood on end, a tell-tale warning that something was off. Rey scanned the shadows. She smelled the sickeningly sweet perfume too late._

 

Bazine.

 

_The grip of a handgun smashed into her temple._

 

_The next flash whitened out her vision. She saw herself dodging the incoming fire, while the Irving brothers called their guards up to the loft._

 

Her pain increased and she had to fight to take the next breath. As she inhaled, another moment flashed. 

 

_Bazine kicked her in the ribs, sending her rolling across the floor. Her hands frantically reached for her knives. A shot hit right between her thighs, narrowly missing her femoral vein. She cursed._

 

_This was a fight she couldn’t win. Dragging herself up off the floor, Rey ran. Arms up to shield her face, she dove through the bow window._

 

_Glass shards cut into her limbs. The jagged edges tore through her flesh, drawing another hissed curse from her lips._

 

A flash of white.

 

_She stumbled down the street, clutching her side where one of Bazine’s bullets had found its mark. They weren’t far behind, eager to intercept Rey before she could reach the hallowed ground of the Continental._

 

_Ignoring the pain shooting through her legs, she shucked off her heels and ran._

 

_The light of the Continental’s entrance was in sight. Just a few more feet and—_

 

_“Ah!”_

 

_A bullet hit her in the back._

 

_Rey tumbled forward, crossing the threshold. Not that it mattered. The damage was done._

 

Her vision blurred as she attempted to stand. She needed to get to the bathroom. She placed her hands on the mattress, using it as leverage to haul herself up, only to have her knees give out.

 

 _Damn it._ She’d lost more blood than she had realized.

 

With shaky fingers, Rey reached into the holster pocket where her burner was stashed. The names on her contact list went in and out of focus as she scrolled down to ‘K’ for Kalonia. 

 

She hit ‘call’ and waited while the lines connected. As soon as she heard the click of the other end picking up, Rey recited her room number and the safe code. Each guest got one, in case of an emergency. The safe code was a verbal authorization code for the concierge to permit someone entry into a guest’s room. It would allow Doctor Kalonia entry after she blacked out. 

 

Ending the call, Rey slumped over, the cell sliding out of her fingertips to the floor. She stared at the device, watching the outline of its sleek black design go in and out of focus. Heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor. Someone was shouting. They sounded far away. 

 

Rey closed her eyes and let herself fall into the dark void. 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't want to miss what happens next? Hit that 'Subscribe' button


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say thank you enough for all the kind words and encouraging comments I've received on this fic. it's out of my element and I'm extremely grateful. Thank you all!
> 
> My continued thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for all her help.

 

He was crossing Avenue Mac-Mahon when he heard gunfire ring through the night. The clap of the shot was followed by a series of cries from onlookers and the wailing of sirens. Guns were outlawed in France and although that didn’t stop anyone in the First Order from carrying, he wanted to avoid any unwanted attention. 

 

Kylo ducked into the nearest alley, cautiously peeking around the corner to check the street. It was vacant. There was no sign of an assailant anywhere — not on the fire escape, not the rooftop or in any of the open windows. 

 

Slowly, he stalked towards the Continental, his forefinger on the trigger of his Heckler & Koch. The pistol had been his preferred firearm for the last ten years. He’d upgraded his ammunition and added a custom compensator to counter the recoil. In the entire time Kylo had owned the weapon, it never failed to make a killing shot. He didn’t intend for tonight to go any differently.

 

As the hotel entrance came into view, he scanned the area for signs of a fight. There weren’t any attackers lurking in the shadows or pedestrians illuminated in the Continental’s welcoming light. He imagined they’d all run off, startled by the gun’s blast. It wasn’t uncommon. 

 

What _was_ uncommon was the deserted street. Suspicious, Kylo glanced around for a discarded blade or shell casings. That was when his cell rang.

 

“Unknown Caller’ flashed across the display and he immediately knew who it was.

 

“Rey-.”

 

“Room 3434. Authorization code: Spinebarrel.”

 

There was a click of the line disconnecting and Kylo was left standing in the street reeling with the information she’d shared. Was this another ruse like the window stunt? Or had she reached out to accept his offer to teach her?

 

He was so lost in the internal debate, he nearly stepped in a puddle. At the last second, the lobby light’s reflection gave him pause along with the color of the puddle. Kylo froze, his eyes following the fresh trail of blood drops that led away from the original pool inside the hotel.

 

_Shit._

 

He raced up to the third floor, bypassing the elevator to get to her. When he reached the room, Kylo knocked.

 

“Rey?”

 

There was no answer.

 

He tried again with the same result. 

 

In his hands, his gun shook. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears, its steady cadence as evenly-paced as a clock. Swallowing, he ordered himself to calm down. 

 

There were only two reasons for her to provide him with her authorization code; either she was fatally injured or she wanted to become partners. Considering the evidence on the sidewalk out front, he assumed it was the former. Returning to the lobby to gain entry from the concierge was out of the question.

 

Kylo landed a swift front kick to the door, breaking the locking mechanism. It swung open. Instantly, his gaze fell to the Scavenger, who was collapsed on the floor, surrounded by a growing red stain.

 

“Rey!”

 

He dropped to his knees beside her, taking inventory of the damage. She remained unresponsive and unmoving. Her arms and legs were studded with shards of glass. The lacerations were numerous, but experience told him they were mainly superficial. However, the pair of bullet wounds she’d received were not. His chest tightened and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he reprimanded her motionless form, but the only one he was truly angry at was himself. If Kylo hadn’t run out on her, he could have prevented this. 

 

To add insult to injury, he spotted her phone lying only inches from her hand. The last outgoing call had been to him— which he already knew — but the name above his was Kalonia.

 

Suddenly, Rey’s abrupt directions made sense. She’d meant to call the Doc. Shaking his head, Kylo withdrew his cell and finished what the girl had started.

 

“I need you in Paris. Now,” he informed the Doc.

 

“I’m in Prague. Can you wait until morning?” Kalonia replied.

 

“No,” he hissed. “It needs to be tonight. It’s an emergency.”

 

“Aphra is in Brussels. She could be there in a few hours,” the Doc explained. 

 

“Fine,” Kylo relented. “Until then, can you tell me how to help her?” He snapped a picture of Rey and sent it over their secure connection.

 

“Mr. Ren—”

 

“She’s bleeding out! I need to know what to do to keep her stable until Aphra gets here,” he demanded.

 

“Is she breathing?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

On the other end, the Dr. Kalonia sighed, “Do you have a pen and paper?”

 

The Doc walked him through the glass removal, as well as how to make effective tourniquets for each of the bullet wounds. “You want to keep the air from getting in there,” she advised. He used a damp cloth to wipe away the blood from Rey’s skin. The doctor recommended that he keep the surrounding areas clean. Once he finished, Kylo laid her down on the bed, keeping her as flat as possible.

 

Doctor Chelli Aphra arrived in under three hours. She was a petite, brown-eyed woman with jet-black hair and a no-nonsense attitude. Had he not been aggravated by the evening’s outcome, Kylo would have appreciated her candor. He’d spent the remainder of his wait pacing the length of Rey’s room.

 

Aphra was pleased by his efforts, though she did comment on the fact he’d stripped Rey of her dress. The remark shouldn’t have caused him to blush but he found himself mumbling an excuse and exiting Rey’s room to retrieve Chewie before the doctor could notice.

 

Upon his return, the mastiff immediately went to the side of the bed. He nudged Rey’s hand, where it hung off the mattress. When she didn’t pet him, he gazed up at his master and whined. Kylo could only stare solemnly back at his companion, knowing exactly how he felt.

 

“I’ll need to transfuse her,” Aphra announced. “She’s lost too much blood.”

 

“Fine.” Kylo unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it on the desk chair.

 

“What are you doing?” the doctor asked, brow creased in confusion as he rolled up his left sleeve.

 

“I’m O-negative. Universal donor,” he explained while he sat on the edge of the bed. 

 

Aphra’s gaze flickered from him to her unconscious patient. “Girlfriend?” she speculated.

 

His eyes narrowed into thin black slits. “I’m her mentor,” he grumbled.

 

“ _Right_ ,” the doctor drawled. “Lay down, please. I don’t need you getting light-headed.” 

 

Kylo glared at her while she inserted the needle into his arm. “I haven’t killed anyone without a contract in years but in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.”

 

Aphra laughed. “You do that, Romeo. Good luck finding someone to help you revive Juliet.” She motioned for him to lie back. 

 

He seethed, annoyed she called his bluff but relented. “Just do your job,” he barked.

 

“Keep your mouth shut, Mr. Ren and you have yourself a deal,” she bargained.

 

Kylo didn’t utter another word. 

 

Aphra tended to her patient all night. She covered the lacerations in salves and ointments, blessedly silent as she worked. He feared his temper would have her changing her mind about whether or not to help Rey if he spoke to her too soon. The only time she did speak was to remind Kylo not to use hydrogen peroxide because it would slow the healing process.”I’ve already disinfected the area. There’s no need for alcohol,” she said sternly. He merely nodded in response. 

 

While Aphra stitched both bullet wounds closed, she informed him that Rey would need to have the stitches removed in a week. She demonstrated how he could do it to avoid the need for another visit. Once the wounds were dressed, Aphra lined up a series of prescription bottles on Rey’s bedside table. There was enough to start a small pharmacy. 

 

As the sun rose on Paris, Rey’s skin was no longer sickeningly pale. Her complexion returned to its former golden hue and her breathing evened out. Kylo felt as though he could finally breathe again. He took out a pair of golden coins from his pocket, handing them over to Aphra. 

 

“She won’t wake up for a few more hours,” the doctor notified him. “I had to sedate her while I worked and I gave her something for the pain. I've written out her regime,” she indicated the note by the medicine. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

“If you or your _trainee_ ,” Aphra emphasized the term, “ever encounter another emergency, here’s my number.” She passed him an embossed business card. “It’s a secure line.” 

 

Kylo nodded and showed her out of the room. When he turned back to Rey, Chewie had made himself comfortable next to the Scavenger.

 

“Traitor,” Kylo remarked, only slightly bothered by the fact his dog had taken such an unprecedented liking to Rey.

 

The mastiff merely sighed, content to remain in his spot. 

 

His master settled into a chair facing the bed, his eyes on the girl until the weight of the last twenty-four hours caught up with him and he fell asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Everything hurt. Her lungs burned as if she’d run a marathon. Her legs were sore, the way they were after a training session with Phasma and her head was pounding from dehydration.

 

Rey groaned, trying to open her eyes, only to hiss in pain. Why was it so bright?

 

_Thump, thump, thump._

 

Her eyes snapped open to the sight of a huge furry face inches from her own.

 

_What the—_

 

_Chewie?_

 

The huge animal licked her face enthusiastically, the drumming of his tail against the mattress picking up again.

 

“Stop,” she cried, unable to keep the smile from her face.

 

He only pressed his muzzle further into her space.

 

“Stop.” She tried again, though the command was lost in her laughter.

 

“Ouch,” Rey winced. Laughing was _not_ a good idea.

 

“Chewie.”

 

The dog immediately pulled away from her, allowing Rey to see his owner standing at the end of her bed. She locked eyes with Kylo, wondering what he and his pet were doing in her room. Had the Doc let them in?

 

She glanced around for signs of Kalonia but all she saw were about a dozen bottles of pills on the counter.

 

“You called me,” Kylo stated. “And it’s good you did because the Doc couldn’t make it.”

 

Rey felt the color drain from her face. A wave of nausea swept over her. She didn’t remember calling him. In fact, she didn’t remember anything with the exception of reaching out to the Doc, but apparently that memory wasn't accurate. 

 

“You kept my number,” he pointed out. 

 

“You kept the phone,” she retorted accusingly, unsure why he’d held onto the burner or, more importantly, why he was here. 

 

“Fair enough,” he replied. Then, after a pause, “Where did you get it?”

 

“Verizon.”

 

Kylo chuckled. “Who encrypted it for you?”

 

Her brows pinched together in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

 

She watched as realization dawned on him. “You’re the hacker.” 

 

“You seem surprised.” 

 

“There is no end to the surprises with you.” 

 

They lapsed into silence, Rey listening to the increasing speed of her heart beat and Kylo pursing his lips, deep in thought. 

 

“What now?” she asked. 

 

“That’s up to you, Rey,” he responded. 

 

“Do you still want a student?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh.” She shifted, hearing the mattress creak beneath her. Why did his reply bother her so?

 

“I want a _partner_.”

 

Her eyes snapped to his, a mixture of disbelief and excitement passing through her. His ask was wholly unlike how she’d fallen into business with Phasma. It wasn’t the one-sided deal she’d been brought into with Plutt or the ironclad agreement she made with the First Order. Kylo’s offer was like an open contract. She had the freedom to choose whether she accepted or not. No strings attached. 

 

It had been years since she’d felt that. Rey hadn’t expected such a grace from him. Of course, she’d learned not to expect anything from anyone. It was easier that way. 

 

He took her silence for rejection. “I won’t linger. I know your opinion hasn’t changed,” he said resolutely. “Chewie.” He whistled and the dog leaped off the bed. “I’ll call down to the lobby and have maintenance fix your door," Kylo added.

 

Rey glanced at the entrance to her room, startled to find the lock had been abused beyond repair. Had he kicked the door down? 

 

Kylo plucked his jacket off the back of the chair, shrugging it on, then pausing to button it closed. “Be seeing you,” he muttered.

 

Maybe it was the blood loss or the realization that he had been right about her barreling head first into danger without a plan. Either way, Rey couldn’t stop herself from requesting, “Stay. _Please_.”

 

His brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“I...” She trailed off, digging her nails into the sheets. Rey couldn’t articulate what it was she wanted because she hadn’t unraveled that mystery yet. So she gave him the only truth she was sure of. “I don’t want to be alone.”

 

Her voice has been so quiet, so unrecognizable to her own ears in its vulnerability. She hadn’t heard herself ask for help since Han Solo had smuggled her out of Plutt’s shop. Not that she could compare Kylo’s compassion to Han Solo’s. The two couldn’t be more different. 

 

He didn’t respond and for a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her. 

 

Then...

 

“You’re not alone.” 

 

As quickly as he had put on his jacket, he removed it, along with his shirt, and shoes. Rey swallowed thickly, staring unabashedly at his bare torso. She’d felt those muscles last night but seeing them was an entirely different experience. Her gaze trailed down each line, each curve to the defined ‘V’ that descended beneath the top of his pants.

 

“If you keep blushing like that, I’m going to need to give you another transfusion,” he remarked with a satisfied smirk.

 

Her embarrassment was short-lived as his words sunk in. “Y-you did what?”

 

“You lost too much blood. Aphra needed a donor. I offered,” he explained as if they were discussing an equation.

 

“Kylo.”

 

His eyes darkened.

 

Rey saw a hunger there, one which was mirrored in her own expression. For the first time since she met Kylo Ren, she was afraid of him.

 

“I’ll get you some water,” he announced. “Then you should rest.”

 

“I don’t need—”

 

“You’re going to rest, Scavenger,” he ordered. “Or I won’t train with you.”

 

“With?”

 

“You do need a teacher but so do I,” he conceded, running a hand through his hair. “I am amending my former offer. We become partners. I teach you and you teach me. Equal parts, give and take.”

 

Rey mulled it over. A partnership was an attachment, a liability, a sure-fire way to get killed. Entering into this agreement with Kylo would provide her the chance to increase her skills and help her avoid situations like the one she’d gotten into last night. However, the partnership would also put her precariously close to the most dangerous man alive, a man who was dangerous to Rey not because of his affinity for guns and combat but because of her unrelenting pull towards him.

 

“Alright. On one condition,” she negotiated. “Our partnership remains purely professional.”

 

His lips quirked slightly and he arched an eyebrow at her. “If that’s what you want.”

 

“It is,” she confirmed, but her words sounded flat. 

 

“Then I promise to keep things strictly professional,” Kylo agreed as he extended his hand towards her. Rey took it to shake. Then he was lifting her hand to his lips. His dark orbs stared at her over her knuckles. “Until you stop lying to yourself about what it is you really want.”

 

Rey felt her breath catch in her throat. She waited for him to kiss her hand but he never did. Instead, he sauntered over to the mini fridge to retrieve a bottle of water.

 

He handed it to her. “Drink up, _partner_.”

 

_I have a bad feeling about this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next up: Kylo gives Rey a gift to celebrate their partnership.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my friend and beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for her kind words of support and help with this story!

 

Over the course of the next three days, Kylo remained by Rey’s side, never leaving her alone for more than a few hours at a time and never without Chewie. The mastiff seemed to be aware of their new arrangement. When Kylo was forced to step out, the dog cuddled closer to Rey, making sure to prop his head up under her hand for ear scratches.

 

The first day was an intense dance between them. Both were too stubborn to make concessions where the other was concerned, which included Kylo’s offer to assist Rey in the shower.

 

“It’s going to get infected,” he argued about her wound care.

 

“What happened to keeping things professional?” Rey countered.

 

“By your definition, I’m meant to let you die rather than help you?” he questioned skeptically.

 

“I can take care of myself,” Rey insisted. She stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door for his benefit.

 

Kylo glowered at the floor, debating whether or not to have the Continental procure him a room of his own. After the attack, he’d opted to stay with Rey, and while the leather chaise wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, at least he could keep an eye on the little scavenger.

 

He heard the water turn on. 

 

A few minutes later, the bathroom door cracked open. “Kylo?” 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can you remove the tape from my back? I can’t reach it” she admitted sheepishly. 

 

He didn’t bother to hide his smug grin when he met her at the door. She kept herself facing away from him, clearly anticipating his expression. Kylo would have been disappointed, had it not afforded him to trace the sensual curve of her spine downward. 

 

When he returned to his seat, the glower was gone, replaced with a genuine smile. 

 

* * *

 

The following day, Kylo returned from walking Chewie to find Rey sitting on the floor with a series of blades laid out in front of her. She was sitting cross-legged, meticulously wiping each down, before securing the newly polished knives in her holster.

 

“I’m bored,” Rey stated, without looking up. 

 

“You’re recovering,” he reminded her.

 

Chewie sat down next to the petite assassin, placing his head on her knee. “Hey, boy,” she greeted him with an affectionate pat.

 

Kylo ignored the flicker of jealousy he felt from seeing her so at ease with his companion. She appeared to trust the dog more than him. Not that he could blame her. He trusted Chewie before anyone else too. His dog had only ever been loyal to him.

 

Until Rey.

 

_Traitor._

 

“So about the phone,” he began. Rey raised her eyes from her task to his face. “I had an associate of mine trace it back to its source.” Her hazel eyes went almost completely green at his revelation. “You want to tell me what your tie to Canto Bight Casino is?”

 

Rey went back to cleaning her blades. “Not particularly,” she replied.

 

Kylo settled into the desk chair across from her. “Partners need to be honest with each other.”

 

“Maybe, but they also need to know when to butt-out of other people’s business,” she retorted.

 

“Your business is my business now, sweetheart. That’s what a partnership means.”

 

She glared at him, gold flakes breaking up the emerald coloring of her eyes. “What’s with the name?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she protested.

 

Kylo smirked. “Tell me about Canto Bight.”

 

“It’s a private casino in New York City catering to the elite,” Rey responded matter-of-factly.

 

“I know Gwendolyn Phasma runs that place and that she bought you the phone,” he explained.

 

Rey didn't pause as he had suspected she would while completing her task, instead she continued as if he wasn't even in the room.

 

“Phasma’s organization serves the First Order, but she came up through the ranks of a former associate, Ahsoka Tano. Do you know anything about that, Rey?”

 

Her hand stilled for a split second, barely noticeable, then she was cleaning once more.

 

Kylo continued, sensing he was on the right track. “Tano was part of the former council, back when the First Order was named the Empire. She was known for training some of the best because she’d been trained by the best herself. Anakin Skywalker.”

 

“You mean Vader,” Rey muttered.

 

He nodded. “I’m glad I don’t have to teach you the history of our profession.”

 

“He was before my time,” she pointed out. “And yours.”

 

“True,” Kylo agreed. “But even thirty years after his death, no one has closed more contracts than him.”

 

“And you think that’s to be revered?”

 

“I think it’s worth noting.”

 

“Even if he betrayed his partners?” Rey questioned, her knives forgotten as she challenged his opinion.

 

Kylo studied her expression, trying to determine if he was walking into a trap by being honest. “His partners betrayed him.”

 

“Funny,” she remarked, plucking one of the knives off the floor. She stared at her reflection. “That’s not the story I was told.”

 

_Bingo._

 

“So you _are_ one of Tano’s girls.”

 

Rey’s eyes narrowed and her grip on the blade changed. “I’m not anyone’s anything.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” he apologized. “She trained you?”

 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Rey scoffed.

 

“What do you remember about her academy?” Kylo asked, intrigued.

 

She shrugged indifferently. “I remember fine. I just didn’t understand what I had agreed to. It took me a long time to figure it out.”

 

“How old were you?” 

 

“About ten. Maybe.” She shrugged again, like it was nothing. “I was six when Teedo snatched me off the streets of Westminster. He delivered me to Plutt with a shipment of other girls. They were older than me. Ducain helped smuggle us all in at the dock. He told Plutt that I’d grow into the life and until then I could help him around the shop. The Irving brothers helped them forge papers so it looked like I was his orphaned niece. That’s how I got the name Niima. With no evidence of any other living relatives, the state awarded custody to Plutt.”

 

Kylo felt his carefully concealed rage boiling over. He imagined Rey as a child, stolen from her home, taken to a different country, sold into servitude and groomed to become a pleasure slave. It was no wonder she had an aversion to touch and deep-rooted trust issues. The rumors — for once — had been correct. Her choice to go after Plutt’s trafficking ring was based on revenge.

 

He had been born into the life. It had been his destiny since birth. While most kids were learning their ABC’s, he’d been learning the difference between a 38 Special vs 380 ACP. Most kids got skateboards or a new football for their birthday; he’d been gifted with his first automatic. No other path existed for the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo. Kylo had learned to accept his fate. Like him, Rey had never been granted the freedom of choice.

 

“You kept the name,” he observed.

 

“It’s just a name,” Rey said, not meeting his gaze. “Besides, I don’t remember my real one.”

 

He nodded, mulling over her answer and wishing he could forget his real name. “How did you manage to get away?”

 

“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” she admitted. “There was a man—” Kylo felt his heart rate increase and his stomach pitched. Rey noticed his reaction. “A smuggler,” she clarified. “He did some work with Plutt, though he wasn’t like the others. He was always kind to me. He snuck me food and clothes. Once he even brought me a doll but Plutt found it the next day and burned it.”

 

Her eyes hardened and she snapped her wrist, sending the blade past his head to pin a fly against the wall beside him.

 

Kylo smiled. “Nice aim.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“So this smuggler,” Kylo inquired, curiously. “Did you kill him too?”

 

“No,” Rey mumbled. “After he dropped me off with Ahsoka, I never saw him again. When I heard he died, I tracked down the man who murdered him and stuck a knife in his heart.” She chewed on her lower lip, a habit he hadn’t seen before. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. “I never got the chance to thank him.”

 

Kylo’s chest tightened. He didn't believe in coincidence. Fate didn't dictate the outcome of one's life. Contracts did. Still, the things she spoke of were much too familiar for his liking. He couldn't stop himself from asking, “Did he have a name? This man?”

 

“Han Solo.”

 

And there it was — the punchline to the cosmic joke the universe was playing on him. 

 

His father hadn’t been able to save him but he’d saved this girl — _his_ girl — and put her right in his path. To add insult to injury, she'd avenged his father before he could. She'd beat him to Tobias Beckett, the man who had betrayed his father and taken Han's life.

 

Was _that_ the reason? Was that why Kylo felt drawn to Rey? Was that why Chewie adored her? Was Han the reason for all of this?

 

_You need to find someone in this life to love before you lose yourself._

 

Kylo stared at Rey. Her chestnut hair fell in waves around her face as she put away her knives. His eyes trailed down her bare arms, over the taut muscles of her upper body to the long, lean legs she had tucked underneath. Her bronze skin was dotted with freckles, aching to be traced by his fingertips. 

 

Her eyes found his and for a moment neither of them moved. Chocolate met hazel in a slow simmer of dangerous desire. Slowly, Rey rose, crossing the floor to where he sat. She placed a hand on the armrest, leaning in towards him. Kylo breathed her in, picking up hints of sunflower and silver polish. Her hand reached toward his cheek and his eyes closed anticipating her lips on his own.

 

He heard her rip the blade from the wall.

 

“Don’t get any ideas, Ren,” she commented, pulling away. “We’re partners.”

 

He chuckled. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

 

* * *

 

During their final day in Paris, as he prepared to let himself into Rey’s room, Kylo paused outside the door. He heard voices inside, or more accurately one voice. Wondering if she had reached out to Phasma, he pressed his ear against the wooden barrier. 

 

“Who’s a good boy? You are! Yes, you are. The most perfect boy. My perfect boy. So good,” she cooed. “Can you sit for me? Sit. Good boy!” 

 

Kylo never heard her tone so light or loving. He immediately resented his companion for gaining her trust before him. He’d never expected to hear those words out of the scavenger’s mouth.

 

And he knew she had no intention of letting him.

 

Which was why when he entered the room, he acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Rey’s face was an emotionless mask and Chewie regarded him with the same perked up ears and tail wag as normal.

 

She hadn’t chosen to share the moment with him. Kylo respected that. If he wanted her, he’d have to let her come to him. Otherwise, she’d slip through his fingers, disappearing into the night the way she had in Seattle.

 

This time he would play by her rules. It would make his victory all the more satisfying.

 

To help sweeten the deal, Kylo procured her a gift. The Armory in Paris wasn’t as well-stocked as the one in New York but he found a suitable piece nonetheless.

 

“Where are we going?” Rey questioned, as Kylo led her down the street that afternoon.

 

“It’s a surprise,” he replied.

 

She clenched her jaw, annoyed. He chuckled. Despite her brush with death, she remained stubborn as ever. His scrappy, little scavenger.

 

They arrived at their destination, a dilapidated warehouse in the tenth arrondissement of the city. If Rey was suspicious of his motives, she didn’t show it. She strolled past him through the sliding metal door, and into the dark. Kylo followed close behind.

 

He walked towards the center of the room and hit the activation code on his phone. Instantly, a series of lights switched on, showering the interior of the warehouse in a harsh fluorescents glow. Directly in front of them sat the Irving brothers —bound, gagged, and blindfolded.

 

“Surprise,” Kylo said with a smile.

 

Rey turned to him, her lips pulling up slowly into a smile of her own.

 

“They’re all yours,” he announced. “As is this.” He retrieved a wooden case from a table behind the brothers.

 

She watched him, clearly curious but unwilling to show it beyond the interest shimmering in her eyes.

 

Kylo opened the container to reveal the weapon. Inside was a customized Glock 19, a special order he had placed with the Armory the same day Rey had woken up. It was the first time he’d ever bought a weapon for anyone. 

 

He expected her to be grateful but Rey proved herself unpredictable yet again. 

 

Her expression darkened. “No thanks.” She backed away from the box, eyes narrowing at the pistol held inside. “I don’t do guns.”

 

“What?” he asked incredulously.

 

With an indifferent shrug, she repeated herself. “I don’t do guns.”

 

“You’re a professional killer. A gun is the logical choice for—”

 

“Not this killer,” Rey interrupted, her tone firm.

 

Her hazel eyes shifted color. Kylo recognized her walls going up. “Rey—”

 

“No, Kylo,” she hissed.

 

His gaze flickered to the Irving brothers before returning to her face. “We’re not done yet.”

 

“Later,” she suggested, though he knew better than to hold his breath. If she didn’t want to confess her reasoning to him, she wouldn’t.

 

Kylo watched as she withdrew her black tanto knife. It was the same stainless steel blade she had used to mark him. He knew it would slice through Toursant and Vanver just as effortlessly.

 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he told her.

 

Rey didn’t respond but Kylo heard the screams before he stepped out onto the street. He shut the warehouse door and waited for the eventual silence.

 

* * *

 

She was re-energized. With the Irving brothers gone, Rey no longer felt the weight of her past hanging over her. The men who had ruined her life — ruined _her_ — were finally gone. They’d paid for their crimes in blood. Now all that was left was to find Bazine.

 

Rey exited the warehouse, her blade tucked neatly into her jean pocket.

 

Kylo pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning while he waited for her. “Ready?”

 

She gave him a curt nod and he fell into step with her. He didn’t ask about the gun again for which she was grateful. Rey had shared more with Kylo than anyone else alive, except for Phasma and the only reason the blonde knew so much was because she’d lived through it too.

 

“I have a safe house in Italy where we can train,” Kylo announced. “There’s a flight out tonight.”

 

“I can’t go,” Rey informed him.

 

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean you can’t go?”

 

“I have something I need to take care of first.”

 

“I thought you were done your list,” he said confused.

 

“I was,” she confirmed. “Until Bazine shot me.”

 

“Netal was the one who shot you?”

 

Rey nodded. “The boys hired her to take me out before I could take them out. I imagine she’s still around here somewhere since she hasn’t gotten paid.”

 

Kylo retrieved his cell. “Let me make a call.”

 

He strolled a few paces away from her, head bent down as he spoke in hushed tones to his contact. Rey observed him, cataloging the contours of his massive form.

 

As usual, Kylo was dressed in a designer suit, one outfitted with bullet-proof material and tailored to perfection. Today he wore a white collared shirt beneath the onyx jacket, the contrast of the fabric mirroring the striking difference between his skin tone and his raven hair.

 

She noticed the way the Parisian women looked at him as if he was a limited edition Versace handbag. If she was honest with herself, Rey agreed with their level of interest. 

 

There was no one in the world quite like Kylo Ren. He had a reputation as a ruthless killer but he’d opened up his veins to save her life. He was a notorious lone wolf, yet he’d offered to teach her. He was possessive but he left Chewie, his prized possession, with her. The man was a walking contradiction. 

 

She was captivated by him.

 

His chocolate orbs, which peered into her soul, were distracting, as was the way his full lips quirked when he found something amusing. She’d stumbled over her words more than once in his presence.

 

Her deadly attraction to the man went beyond his physical attributes. His cleverness was equally enticing. Kylo acted as if he was in a chess match, always thinking several steps ahead. When Rey thought she’d cornered him, he turned her advantage around on her. It was irritating.

 

And thrilling.

 

As inclined as she was to learn additional skills from him, Rey was also invested in learning _him_.

 

“How would you feel about a detour?” Kylo asked, returning to her side.

 

“You found her?”

 

He nodded. “She’s in New York.”

 

Rey smirked, crossing her arms as she stared up at him. “That’s quite a detour.”

 

“Then it’s a good thing I know an excellent pilot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points for whoever notices the TFA parallels in this chapter
> 
> Payback's a bitch...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many people to thank for this chapter. 
> 
> Special thanks to [PandaCapuccino ](https://pandacapuccino.tumblr.com/) for the artwork, which you can see at the close of this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you to boomdafunk [boomdafunk](https://boomdafunk.tumblr.com/) for creating artwork for the dance in Chapter 5, which you can see [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153528/chapters/46720786#workskin). 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to [RebelRebel](https://rebelrebelreylo.tumblr.com/) for the trailer video, which you can watch [here](https://wewantreylo.tumblr.com/post/186605668100/sanguis-sanguinem-meum-blood-of-my-blood-video).  
> And as always, to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) THANK YOU for all your help.

 

Landing at JFK was like coming home and entering the lion’s den all rolled into one. It was always a bittersweet moment for Rey. Though it had never been her residence of choice, the city had been her home for the majority of her life. The fact that Phasma set up her casino in New York changed Rey’s opinion on that, but only slightly.

 

She watched the lights come into focus as the plane descended. Next to her, Chewie panted happily, as if he knew they were preparing for  touchdown. In the aisle seat, Kylo was reading on his iPad, looking right at home with the other first-class passengers. To everyone else, he appeared to be a stereotypical businessman. He was even wearing a pair of black-framed glasses. She stifled her laugh.

 

“Something amusing?”

 

Shaking her head, Rey kept her focus on the changing scenery.

 

“Chewie.”

 

The dog hopped over one seat, switching with his master. As Kylo buckled himself in next to her, he leaned over. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Glasses?” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Really?”

 

He deadpanned. “I’m farsighted.”

 

Rey’s face fell.

 

“That was a joke, sweetheart,” Kylo chuckled and returned to his reading, ignoring her glare.

 

She still didn’t understand why he needed to come with her. Rey knew the layout of New York better than any other city in the world. When she asked Kylo why they couldn’t meet up in Italy, he said he was protecting his investment.

 

 _Whatever that means_ , she thought with a huff.

 

She didn’t need a babysitter and she told him as much. “While I appreciate you gift-wrapping the Irving boys for me, my business with Bazine is my own,” she informed him.

 

“I’m well aware,” Kylo commented, continuing to read.

 

“If this partnership is going to work, you need to trust that I will meet you when and where I say I will,” she argued.

 

“If this partnership is going to work, you need to trust that I will have your back, especially since you got it shot up the last time I left you alone,” he retorted. 

 

Rey’s mouth remained parted in shock. Despite his choice of wording, he wasn’t being arrogant. His tone was genuine. He blamed himself for her injuries.

 

Her throat swelled up with a rush of emotions. She glanced away, not wanting him to see the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

 

No one had ever been concerned with her safety before. Except for Han, but even he dropped her off and left her to fend for herself under Ahsoka’s hand. Kylo was _different_. He wanted to build her up, not knock her down.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return your tray tables to their upright position as we prepare for landing,” the flight attendant announced over the intercom.

 

As they landed, Rey decided having a partner wasn’t such a bad thing.

 

Just so long as she could keep her hands to herself.

 

* * *

 

 

If they wanted to track down Bazine, the best person to ask was her on-again, off-again fling, Damian Grummgar. The mercenary was in the same line of work as Ducain had been. Big game hunting was a lucrative, though highly illegal career. With Grummgar’s biggest competition out of the way, thanks to Rey, his business was booming.

 

“I can set it all up for fifty thousand,” he offered a buyer over the phone.

 

Standing at over seven feet tall, Grummgar was not easily intimidated but when Kylo strolled in, the man’s attention rested solely on him.

 

“Let me call you back,” he muttered before hanging up. “Mr. Ren, what an unexpected pleasure. Are you here to chase the thrill of the hunt?”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Kylo replied smoothly. “Have you met Ms. Niima?”

 

He stepped aside so Grummgar could see his partner. Rey sidled over to the man’s desk. His eyes followed her, clearly interested. She sat on the edge of his desk, gazing enticingly at him through her thick lashes.

 

“Pleasure,” Rey offered a hand to Grummgar.

 

“Likewise,” he crooned, giving it a polite shake. 

 

Kylo ignored his instincts and the immediate flare of jealousy in his chest. They were both born of his possessive nature and would be a detriment to their mission if acted upon.

 

“What can I do for you?” Grummgar asked them, though his attention remained fixated on Rey.

 

“I need information,” Kylo demanded. “On Netal’s whereabouts.”

 

Upon hearing the request, Grummgar startled, as if waking up. He stared at Kylo dubiously. “Can’t help you,” he grumbled.

 

Kylo tilted his head. “Can’t or won’t?”

 

“Haven’t heard from her since she left for a job in France,” the mercenary lied.

 

Rey’s gaze flickered to Kylo. He nodded.

 

“That’s a shame,” she said with a sigh. Then she drove one of her knives directly between Grummgar’s middle and forefinger. From the sound of the strike, Kylo estimated the blade was buried about  half an inch in the wood.

 

“You bitch” Grummgar howled. His nostrils flared in anger but he didn’t move his hand. His interest in Rey morphed into fear.

 

Kylo smirked. “I suggest you tell the lady where Netal is. She’s not the patient sort.”

 

Rey withdrew another knife, teasingly drawing it across Grummgar’s cheek. As if to prove Kylo’s point, she pressed the blade against his jaw, forcing him to look at her while she asked, “Where is Bazine?”

 

“Delphi Kloda.”

 

“Thank you,” Rey said with a grin.

 

She hopped off his desk, taking both of her knives with her. As she passed, Kylo placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her out the door.

 

Then she paused, gazing at Grummgar over her shoulder.

 

“If you’re lying and I have to come back here, I’ll make sure you never lie again,” Rey promised, her hazel eyes darkening with her declaration.

 

The two assassins walked out of his office. Grummgar could only stare after them in horror. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was intense.

 

The thrill she got from prying information out of Grummgar was the most satisfying sensation Rey had ever felt. She tried to convince herself it had nothing to with Kylo’s impressed grin or the feel of his hand on her lower back, which he didn’t remove until they were in the elevator at the Continental.

 

It had nothing to do with her partner.

 

Absolutely nothing.

 

The fact that her heart was beating faster than normal and her skin was flushed was due to the adrenaline rush. She always felt accomplished when she got what she wanted. This time was no different.

 

Except it was.

 

Rey had never gone on a job with someone else before. She had never trusted another person not to sabotage her efforts. Kylo hadn’t interfered once. He’d stood back and allowed her to gain the answers she sought on her own terms. He didn’t hold her back. He let her roam free. He trusted her judgement. Their partnership was unexpected and exhilarating.

 

Just like him.

 

As the lift ascended, Rey felt trapped by the small space. It was as if her skin was drawn too tight over her bones. Her clothes were suffocating her. Her heartbeat thrummed so violently she could see the veins in her wrist pulsating. When the elevator chimed announcing their floor, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

 

Wordlessly, she followed Kylo down the corridor, counting the steps she made, the inhales she took — anything to distract her from the sensation of losing control.

 

“Rey?”

 

She glanced up, finding Kylo and Chewie paused outside their assigned room.

 

“Dinner then the hunt?” he suggested.

 

She nodded, mutely.

 

“See you in ten.” He ducked into his room and she went to her own.

 

There was no reason for them to share now that she was on the mend. Rey insisted on paying for her own way, despite Kylo’s offer to fund the trip to New York. She reminded him that partners were equal and as such, she was entitled to pay for her travel expenses. He didn’t argue.

 

She leaned against her door, back pressed to the wood as she attempted to slow her rapid pulse.

 

There was no reason to lose her head over the man. He was attractive. He was efficient. He was—

 

_Knock. Knock._

 

—answering the door.

 

Rey blinked, realizing she had gone to him, seeking him out to fulfill a different kind of mission. 

 

“Are you—”

 

She didn’t give him a chance to finish, grabbing hold of his shirt with both hands and pushing him into his room.

 

“Chewie. Bathroom,” he commanded as he rapidly backed up. 

 

Rey slammed the door shut and shoved Kylo against the wall. The second her lips pressed to his, she felt the heat within her burn hotter. Then his hands were on her, pulling her to him as if he meant to absorb her into himself.

 

She leaned away to remove his jacket. He allowed her to loosen his tie and drag it up over his head. Her nimble fingers made quick work of his shirt buttons and soon Rey was removing that as well.

 

Her partner stood before her shirtless, breathless, and shamelessly aroused. Her desire heightened at the sight of him until she was delirious with need.

 

For him.

 

As if reading her mind, Kylo hoisted her up. Rey locked her ankles together along his lower back while he carried her over to the bed.

 

He deposited her on the mattress, kneeling between her thighs. Kylo’s hands roamed over her body, touching everywhere. When he tugged on her shirt, she lifted her arms, permitting him to peel it off. Next came her boots, followed by her pants, until all that was left was her lingerie and knife holster.

 

“Watching you with your knives,” he said with a groan. “Fucking tease.” His lips were hot on the column of her throat, like he was branding her with each and every kiss.

 

“Stop talking,” Rey ordered, grabbing his face between her hands to direct him towards her own.

 

They clashed together — a frenzied mash of teeth and tongues.

 

Rey flipped them over so she was straddling him. Feeling the power beneath her gave her a heady rush. It was far more seductive than the roar of a motorcycle and when Kylo rolled his hips, she let out a breathy moan.

 

There was no use in denying it. Her attempts to ignore her feelings were futile. There was no one out there who understood her the way Kylo Ren did. Their connection was unparalleled and she surrendered herself to it.

 

She bowed over, planting a kiss on his collarbone as she reached for his discarded tie. 

 

“What are you doing, my little scavenger?”

 

Rey wrapped the satin fabric around his wrists, securing his hands over his head and against the headboard.

 

“I said,” she paused to tighten the knot. “Stop talking.”

 

His eyes shimmered with arousal and a hint of amusement.

 

She waited for him to respond to her command. He didn’t.

 

Pleased, Rey returned her attention to his bare flesh. She started by tracing each of his scars, each one sensitive to the touch, including the one she had given him. That one was the largest. It gave her a twisted sort of pleasure, seeing her mark covering his skin.

 

His breath came out in a hiss when she dipped forward to kiss where the cut began on his abdomen. Encouraged, she continued up his torso until she came upon his face. Rey detoured from the scar to capture his mouth. Kylo’s hips bucked, a strangled moan escaping his lips.

 

“Shhhh,” she hushed him. “I’ve got you.”

 

Straightening up, Rey unfastened his belt. Kylo’s eyes followed her every move her he remained silent. Wielding command of such a powerful man threatened to destroy the last ounce of Rey’s control. After years of doing what she had to, the freedom to do what she wanted was testing her.

 

And she wanted him. _Desperately_.

 

Slowly, Rey rolled his pants down, rising up onto her knees so she could pull them off. As she settled on top of his thighs, Kylo yanked on his restraint.

 

She knew if he really wanted to, he could free himself from the bond. He didn’t. Despite his own desire, he remained under her hold, trusting her to give him what he wanted.

 

What they both wanted. 

 

Rey palmed the prominent bulge in his boxers, delighting in his sharp intake of breath. She repeated the gesture until his eyes were half-closed, chest flushed from holding back, and his heels were digging into the mattress.

 

She shifted forward, bringing her center to meet him. Kylo’s eyes opened wide, staring at where they would have been joined were it not for the thin layers separating them.

 

Placing her hands on his stomach, Rey rocked against him. Using his heels as leverage, Kylo met her next gyration. He hit something that made sparks dance before her eyes. Rey increased her pace, her nails digging into him to keep herself balanced.

 

Kylo gave a particularly hard thrust, sending her falling forward. He buried his face in her neck, spreading kisses where he could reach, as he continued to cant his hips. When his teeth replaced his lips, Rey saw more sparks.

 

A gasp escaped her and she felt his lips pull into a smile along her skin.

 

“What happened to being professional?” he teased, nipping at her earlobe.

 

She recoiled. The burning heat turned to ice in her veins and she climbed off of him. What had she done? She staggered around the room collecting her clothing.

 

“Rey?”

 

“You’ve made your point,” she snapped as she drew her pants up.

 

“What are you—”

 

“Consider this partnership annulled. I’ll deal with Bazine myself. Don’t follow me and don’t get in my way,” Rey snarled. Kylo thrashed around on the bed, trying to free himself. “Be seeing you.” 

 

With that said, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to Kylo: Don't piss off your knife-wielding girlfriend. It won't end well for you...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you to my beta, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for her help with this chapter, especially because she had to do it twice since I had an issues with my GoogleDocs. She's the best! <3

“Fuck.” Kylo tugged on his tie, loosening the satin knot enough to work himself free.

 

 _Couldn’t just keep your mouth shut, could ya, kid?_ His father’s voice taunted him as he undid the restraint.

 

Han had been a smooth talker all his life, a skill he clearly hadn’t passed on to his son. The charismatic smile and endless supply of self-confidence were Solo traits that had died along with the old smuggler. Maybe if they hadn’t, Kylo would still have Rey on top of him.

 

He cursed again, fingers too wide to wedge between the layers of the knot she’d tied.

 

“Chewie.”

 

The dog bolted from the bathroom, leaping onto the bed and immediately ripping through Kylo’s tie with his teeth. As soon as his hands were free, Kylo was patting him on the head.

 

“Good boy.”

 

He hurried around his room, gathering up the remaining pieces of his suit. Chewie pawed at the door, grunting and growling.

 

“I know,” Kylo told his companion as he fastened his cufflinks. “We’re going after her.”

 

His mind was focused solely on finding Rey. He was calculating how quickly he could get to Delphi Kloda, unaware of how Chewie’s cries turned to snarls or how the hair on the back of his neck rose.

 

Kylo opened the door, charging out of his room and directly into a backhand.

 

“Shit!” He grabbed his face, ducking to avoid a hook.

 

Chewie barked savagely, springing forward to attack the assailant. It gave Kylo the opportunity to recover. He aimed his gun at Bazine Netal. His finger was on the trigger when he saw her boot kick his dog. The mastiff withdrew and whimpered.

 

“Chewie, go!” Kylo ordered.

 

He was willing to risk many things but his dog was not one of them.

 

His companion paused in the corridor, watching the fight unfold. Bazine continued pushing forward, kicking Kylo in the chest and knocking his gun from his hand as he stumbled back into his room.

 

“Go!” Kylo commanded.

 

The mastiff took off for the elevators. With him out of danger, Kylo clenched his fists and let them fly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Delphi Kloda was an assassins' guild, one of a half dozen in the city. It masqueraded as a martial arts studio but everyone in the First Order knew if they required a kill with a certain level of stealth, it would be in their best interest to seek out a member of the guild. The trainees were initiated as children and raised to succeed by any means necessary. Their loyalty was to coin, not an organization, including the First Order, though not a single one had ever challenged the table.

 

Standing outside, Rey deliberated about how to enter. If Bazine was inside, she’d be surrounded by some of the most experienced fighters Rey had ever gone up against. On the other hand, being at Delphi Kloda would make them arrogant. People assumed being on their home turf granted them an advantage.

 

Rey disagreed with that theory.

 

Since she’d never had a home, she’d learned to adapt to any situation. It enabled her to see things differently, finding opportunities that others discounted or simply overlooked. It was one of the reasons she was still alive.

 

She checked her blades, making sure they were all in her holster. Along her lower back, she strapped a KA-BAR. The knife was strong enough to cut through a car door like a can opener. Around her ankle, Rey wore a series of smaller blades and in her pocket was her trusty Emerson.

 

Rey took one fleeting glance behind her. The alley was empty. Kylo hadn’t followed. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

 

It didn’t matter. She’d survived this long without someone to watch her back. She would finish this, check-in with Phasma, find a new contract and a new purpose. By the time she left New York, Kylo Ren would be nothing more than a memory.

 

Rey strolled inside, listening to the soft notes of the Guzheng being played by a petite woman in the corner. In the center of the room, five members sat around a table, playing a round of cards. To the left was a small bar, where another two stood to chat and a few yards from them was a door leading into the front of the martial arts studio.

 

When Rey appeared, everyone but the musician paused. Their hands all twitched, unsure of her purpose for walking into their den.

 

“I’m looking for Bazine,” she announced.

 

Gazes shifted. The Guzheng player continued on while the members of Delphi Kloda quietly came to an agreement about how to answer their impromptu visitor.

 

One of the assassins, a man from the bar, came forward. “What is the nature of your business with our sister?”

 

“The same nature as her business with me,” Rey replied calmly. She rolled up her sleeve to show him the healing cuts from the glass window in Paris.

 

“An eye for an eye,” the man surmised. 

 

Rey nodded.

 

He pursed his lips, then returned to the bar. “You won’t find her here,” he informed Rey. “She hasn’t come home for a long time. If I were you, I’d check with Grummgar. She tends to stay with him when she is in the city.”

 

Nostrils flaring, Rey nodded again. “Thank you.”

 

She pivoted on her heel and made for the door. 

 

“Miss Niima.”

 

She paused at his voice, one hand on the door and the other reaching for her KA-BAR.

 

“The next time you enter a den of vipers, you may find them less hospitable,” he warned.

 

Rey left without looking back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The busy streets of the city concealed her as she made her way to Grummgar’s business. Rey made the man a promise and she intended to keep it. She was fantasizing about the number of ways she could fillet him when a noise caused her to stop.

 

Glancing over her shoulder, Rey spotted Chewie running towards her. She also noticed his limp.

 

Immediately, she knelt to the ground. “Chewie!” The dog nuzzled his face into her chest, eagerly accepting her affection. The angle gave Rey an unobstructed view of his back leg which was swollen and bleeding.

 

Her annoyance over Grummgar’s lie was replaced by a wave of rage. She knew a lot of corrupt, depraved bastards who had done unspeakable things but only a few were twisted enough to hurt an animal. 

 

Kylo Ren was no such man.

 

She wondered if he sent his dog to track her as he’d done previously. That thought was quickly dashed. Kylo took care of his companion. He wouldn’t allow Chewie to wander the streets alone while injured. Which meant the only explanation for Chewie being with her was that Kylo didn’t know.

 

Rey wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she ignored her curiosity and the flicker of concern for the man she’d walked out on.

 

“Come on,” she called to the mastiff.

 

Chewie obediently followed her to Grummgar’s place. 

 

Propelled by her emotions, Rey kicked down the door, storming into the building with the force of a tornado and its controlled chaos. 

 

She took down the handful of men inside, barely blinking as each dropped from the fatal knife wounds she inflicted. When Rey shouldered through the door to Grummgar’s office, she found the man gripping a shotgun.

 

Chewie jumped over the desk, tearing into the man’s arm. Rey followed the attack  with one of her own. She unsheathed her KA-BAR and sent it spiraling across the room to land in Grummgar’s protruding gut.

 

One of Ahsoka’s first lessons was how to kill mercifully. The second was how to not.

 

A stomach wound was bloody, slow, and ultimately an agonizing way to die. It was what the cretin deserved.

 

“Do you remember what I said would happen if you lied to me?” Rey asked Grummgar, sauntering over to his side of the desk.

 

Chewie sat on the man’s opposite side, teeth bared and body tensed for a fight.

 

“You’d make sure I never lied again,” the man wheezed. Both his hands were stained red while he clutched his gut.

 

“That’s right,” Rey purred, snapping her Emerson open. 

 

Grummgar’s eyes widened. “She’s at the Continental. She heard about your partnership. She said she was going to take you out of the equation,” he blubbered frantically.

 

“What do you mean ‘out of the equation’?” Rey pressed the tip of the tanto blade to his cheek. 

 

“With Ren,” Grummgar clarified. “Bazine wanted him. When she found out he was with you, she lost it. Started going on about how she could convince him to see reason. I told her she was crazy but she wouldn’t listen.”

 

Rey felt a sickening churn in her stomach. There was something off about the way Grummgar spoke in regards to Bazine’s attitude. She glanced over at Chewie, eyes narrowing in on his leg. The cut was thin, like an arrow tip...

 

...or the tip of a boot.

 

A fresh wave of fury flowed over Rey. She wasn’t going to fillet Grummgar. She was going to destroy Bazine.

 

 _After_ she had some fun.

 

“Believe me,” Rey smirked at Grummgar. “This is a kindness.”

 

She grabbed his chin, roughly forcing his head back, so she could reach her blade into his mouth. The man struggled but Rey was persistent. With a sharp snap of her wrist, she cut off the appendage.

 

“Here you go, boy.” She tossed the man’s tongue to Chewie.

 

Grummgar’s warbled cries filled the office.

 

Rey didn’t hear them. 

 

She moved around the room, searching his inventory for a few key items. The first and most critical was a bulletproof vest for Chewie. It wouldn’t prevent anyone from kicking him but it would soften the blow and protect his vital organs. 

 

As she secured the kevlar around the mastiff, Rey dialed the Doc. 

 

“I need a consult at Willow and Clark Street,” she demanded. 

 

Once the Doc agreed to take a look at Chewie, Rey turned her attention to artillery. She wouldn’t use a gun on Bazine. It was too efficient. She wanted the woman to _suffer_. 

 

There was a set of Hoback knives, some diver’s blades, and even an ax on the wall behind Grummgar. While each had its use, Rey was drawn to the serrated flip knife. She pocketed it, along with an additional set of throwing knives. 

 

“Stay,” she ordered Chewie. “Doc will be here soon.” 

 

The dog whined but obeyed, laying down by the door. 

 

Rey exited the building, heading for the Continental. She had a date with Ms. Netal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo spat blood onto the floor. His jaw was sore from the cross-jab Netal and landed. If she hit him with any more force, he was sure she would have knocked out a couple of teeth.

 

His ribs were cracked in three places and his knee had given out after her heel slammed into it. He crawled across the room towards his gun but she kicked it under the bed, out of reach.

 

“You’re pathetic,” Netal hissed. “All your power, all your potential and you waste it on that...that piece of sand trash.”

 

He glared at her, his irritation stoked further by her calloused words. His hand reached for his pistol. Netal shot him in the leg, granting her an opening to relieve him of his second weapon.

 

“The great Kylo Ren.” She shook her head and made a tutting sound. “What a disappointment you turned out to be.”

 

Kylo seethed. He snapped his leg out, kicking Netal in the ankle, and knocking her off balance. Scrambling, he made for his gun. Just as his fingers closed around the grip, a bullet grazed his side.

 

He cursed, instantly withdrawing.

 

“We could’ve been great, Kylo. You and me,” she sneered at him over the barrel of her gun. “Be seeing y—”

 

A flash of silver flew through the air.

 

Netal howled, dropping the gun to cradle her hand. Kylo saw how the blade penetrated right between the joints of her forefinger and middle finger. It was a precise strike, resulting in permanent nerve damage. Only one person held that level of skill and malice.

 

 _Rey_.

 

She stepped into the room, murder in her eyes and rage in her veins. She’d never looked more beautiful.

 

Without so much as a glance at him, Rey charged at Netal, tackling the other assassin the ground. They landed in a tangled heap of flying fists and metal shimmers. Netal’s backup weapon fired off a couple of rounds. Rey dodged them all. She grabbed the dark-haired woman by the shoulders and slammed her into the floor.

 

“Get off me, scavenger scum!” Netal screamed.

 

Rey laughed. “Sweet dreams, Bazine.”

 

She put Netal under with an uppercut to the jaw.

 

With a huff, Rey stood up, leaving the unconscious body on the floor while she removed all Netal’s weapons. Only then did she turn around and look at him.

 

Kylo pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. 

 

“She did a number on you, huh?” Rey smirked. There was a click and she removed the magazines from Netal’s guns.

 

“I was preoccupied,” he replied.

 

“Getting slow in your old age?” the scavenger teased.

 

“As I recall, I bailed you out first. Does that mean you’re getting slow?”

 

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pinched together. She slipped each of her knives into their rightful slots, carefully avoiding his gaze.

 

“Guess we’re even then,” Kylo added.

 

Rey glanced up at him and laughed. “Not even close,” she muttered as she shouldered past him.

 

She took a seat on his bed and pressed speed dial for the concierge. “Yes, can you connect me to the manager, please? I’d like to report an infraction.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lando Calrissian was exactly as the stories painted him — well-dressed, charming, and quite in love with himself. The fact that he seemed to have a personal connection to Kylo was interesting but Rey didn’t have time to explore that. She wanted to deal with Bazine and call the Doc.

 

“The rules are clear,” Mr. Calrissian declared. “No blood shall be spilled on Continental property. It’s hallowed ground.” 

 

“Bazine drew first blood,” Rey implored.

 

“I’m sure if you check your security footage, you’ll see that my actions were purely out of self-defense,” Kylo agreed.

 

“Maz has already provided the recordings to me,” the manager shared.

 

Rey looked to Kylo for an interpretation. “I do apologize for the inconvenience. We strive to ensure everyone’s stay at the Continental is perfect.”

 

“What can you offer us for our trouble?” Kylo questioned.

 

“Consider your stay free of charge.” Kylo stared at the man, unimpressed with his offer. Mr. Calrissian leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Would you like to deliver the sentencing?” he proposed, pouring three glasses of whiskey.

 

Kylo handed Rey hers first, before taking one for himself. “Now you’re talking.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Central Park was desolate at the midnight hour. To Rey, it seemed as though the park itself knew what was about to happen. The ducks were tucked away for the evening and even the zoo creatures were abnormally quiet. It was as if the entire area was holding its breath.

 

Mr. Calrissian’s associates brought Bazine forth, depositing her in the center of Bethesda Terrace. 

 

The Delphi Kloda assassin glowered at them all. “What is this?” 

 

“Ms. Netal,” the manager addressed her as he stepped forward. “By your own hand, your membership to the Continental has been revoked.”

 

Bazine’s eyes followed Mr. Calrissian as he and his associates backed away, leaving her standing before Rey. 

 

She circled Bazine, twirling her newly acquired serrated blade in her hand. “I could forgive the fact you tried to kill me. It’s just business. I understand, but you hurt my friend,” Rey informed her.

 

Bazine arched one of her manicured brows in disbelief. “The dog? This is about a _fucking_ dog?”

 

Rey stabbed the knife between the woman’s ribs. “His name,” she punctuated the words with the next thrust of her blade. “Is Chewie.”

 

“You’re going to let her kill me,” Bazine struggled to speak. Her eyes were wide in terror as she stared up at Mr. Calrissian, who had paused on the steps.

 

“Ms. Netal, you broke the rules. You left us no choice,” the manager replied without remorse. He gave a nod to the darkened corner and went up to the street where his car was waiting to take him back to the hotel. 

 

“Us?” 

 

Smiling, Rey leaned down, giving her knife a slight twist. Bazine winced. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. I’m just gonna make you hurt.” She stepped back, as Kylo came forward from the shadows. “He’s going to kill you.”

 

Slowly, she withdrew her remaining knives, finding a place for each. The ground beneath Bazine was coated in crimson and her breathing was uneven as she attempted to curse Rey out. 

 

The scavenger drove her last knife into Bazine’s thigh.

 

A single shot rang out in the night.

 

Then there was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buh-bye, Bazine


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut is here! For those who were upset with how Chapter 8 ended, don't worry. You're about to get your due. 
> 
> Thanks my beta, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for stroking my ego with this chapter's illicit content. LOL!
> 
> Also, I finished this fic over the weekend, so never fear. Regular updates will continue until we reach the end. Just excuse me while I go cry in the corner because I'm slightly depressed that it's over (for me anyway).

 

Overwhelmed.

 

That was the only way he could describe the sensation he was experiencing. From the moment Rey had arrived in his room, to when she drove her blade through Netal's thigh, he felt consumed by his _need_ for her. It went beyond initial attraction, beyond carnal desire, and beyond the primal urge to secure his place with her. She became all he could see, hear, feel, smell, and even taste.

 

He was overwhelmed by _her_.

 

So when she stepped aside to let him kill Netal, he barely registered his finger pulling the trigger, too distracted by the satisfaction in Rey's eyes.

 

It wasn't until they began their walk out of Central Park that he finally spoke. "I'm sorry."

 

She kept in step with him, seeming not to have heard his apology. Kylo sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

His body was sore from his near loss of Rey and the attack. While he loathed admitting Netal had been right, Kylo knew she had been correct about one point. Having Rey in his life changed him.

 

Before her, there had never been anything worth his time or concentration. He had trained Chewie from a young age to obey commands. They spent the better part of a year together, so the mastiff could learn how to read Kylo's body language, lowering the threat of an injury. 

 

With Rey, they'd never gotten that far. He'd screwed up his opportunity to gain her as a partner. If they'd gone to Italy, Kylo would have had the chance to teach her how to fight with another person, how to read their moods and their actions prior to them making a move. It would have been spectacular.

 

He could see her fighting alongside him, their backs turned to each other as they engaged multiple opponents, bathing their surroundings in shades of red.

 

"I'm sorry, too." Kylo gazed down at the woman on his right. Rey was staring at the sidewalk, her fingers tapping nervously against the sides of her thighs. "I'm sorry I didn't have your back. Maybe if I had stayed Chewie would—"

 

He didn't hear anything else she said after that. 

 

_Chewie._

 

Retrieving his cell, he dialed the concierge's direct line.

 

"Hello," he spoke into the receiver. "This is Mr. Ren of room 1089. Is my dog with you?"

 

" _Kylo_."

 

He saw Rey staring at him with a strange expression on her face. He hung up the phone.

 

"Where is he?"

 

"He's with the Doc," she explained.

 

"What?" His question came out as a shout, earning them more than a few curious glances.

 

Rey wrapped her hand around his arm, dragging him into a nearby alley. "There's no need to raise your voice," she snapped. "I called Harter before I came for you. She has him in her Brooklyn safe house. I'm going to go pick him up in the morning."

 

Kylo blinked. Once again, he was overwhelmed by her—by her initiative, by her compassion, by her ability to call him out on his bullshit.

 

It was too much.

 

He couldn't control it anymore and he didn't want to.

 

His hands were on her, grabbing under her pert, little ass and hauling her up onto his arms. The only sound he heard her make was a tiny gasp of surprise before his lips covered her own. Her hands framed his face, angling him the way she wanted.

 

It was messy and frantic. They were both vying for dominance, hands and lips moving disjointedly.

 

Kylo didn't care. He could feel her against him, her thighs clench around his torso to hold herself up while her fingers tangled in his hair. And her lips— _hell_ , her lips—could spout such vicious cynicism or deliver him to heaven.

 

Because that's what it felt like. _Heaven_.

 

He wasn't a believer, not by a long-shot, but Kylo had never felt the rush of euphoria he experienced with Rey.

 

She gave as good as she got. When his hands tightened on her ass, she yanked on his hair. When he pressed her against the alleyway wall, she bucked her hips hard enough to force him to stumble backward. When he bit her clavicle and she moaned, he only got to savor the victory for a moment before she returned the favor. Rey was insatiable.

 

Pulling away from her was like coming up for air after being underwater, but he forced himself to ask, "What time?"

 

"What?" she said breathlessly, already drawing him back to her.

 

"When do we pick-up time Chewie?"

 

"Seven," Rey answered, sobering up at the mention of the dog.

 

Kylo checked the time on his watch. "In that case, you're mine for the next six hours."

 

The devilish grin she gave him was all the consent he needed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Consumed_.

 

There was no other word to describe what he was doing to her. Everything from his calloused, broad hands to his smooth as silk hair was worth touching and being touched by. Each groan or huff of breath from his lips set off fireworks of pleasure within her. Even his scent was intoxicating, cocooning her in a leather and sandalwood haze.

 

Rey was undeniably consumed by Kylo Ren.

 

She didn't remember the walk to the Continental, or the elevator ride up to her floor, or even letting him into her room. All Rey could think about was the feel of his hand on her lower back, the heat of his wide palm searing through her clothes like a brand. A delicious thrill raced through her. Would he mark her the way she'd marked him?

 

Her earlier anger subsided the second she saw Bazine aiming to shoot. A possessive voice inside her screamed in rage.

 

_Mine._

 

Everything which followed was a blur. The details were muddled in her brain, the joint effect of adrenaline and arousal.

 

The instant the door to her room clicked shut they were attacking each other. Fabric ripped, lips smacked, and weapons were cast aside in a flurry of movement.

 

Kylo lifted her up the way he'd done in the alley and delivered her onto the bed. Her back touched the mattress just as he knelt over her, cupping her face in his hands to steal another kiss.

 

"Five hours and forty-one minutes," he teased.

 

"Stop talking."

 

Rey locked her legs around his hips, using her body weight to flip them over so she was hovering over him.

 

He was burning beneath her, a tinge of red covering his alabaster skin. The flush extended up to his face, past the scar to the tips of his ears and she grinned; he was exactly where she wanted him.

 

Supporting herself on her elbows, Rey leaned forward to press her lips to Kylo's throat. His hands gripped her thighs. There would be bruises in the morning from the intensity of his hold—ten perfect ovals dotting her skin as a marker of his own possessive nature. She smiled against his neck.

 

Rey could feel his pulse thrumming under her lips as she trailed downwards. Kylo's hands shifted with her, helping her slide over his hips. When her core glided over his shaft, he dragged her down. Rey's nails dug into his chest for leverage to keep herself from giving him what he wanted.

 

Kylo hissed.

 

"Not yet," she said, while smoothing her hand over the fresh nail marks.

 

"Rey."

 

"We still have five hours and thirty-eight minutes," she replied cheekily.

 

He opened his mouth to retort but she silenced him by taking him in hand. Kylo's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he bit out a curse.

 

"You're mine now," she purred, running her thumb over the head languidly.

 

"Yours," he agreed breathlessly.

 

Satisfaction filled Rey. She traced the line of his prominent jaw with a single finger, while she worked him. "Let me take care of you."

 

His only response was a curt nod.

 

Rey held his chin, drawing him up for another kiss before she released him to focus her attention elsewhere.

 

When she bowed to kiss his navel, Kylo's left hand rose to her hair, tangling in her chestnut tresses. When she nipped at his hip bone, he bucked against her, seeking friction. And when she used her tongue, his body tensed so beautifully that Rey considered keeping him on edge all night long.

 

Despite his need, Kylo remained quiet. The only sounds he made were moans, grunts and sharp inhales.

 

Rey rewarded his obedient behavior, rising up on her knees to position herself above him. Kylo's eyes were fixated on her core as she lowered herself inch by inch. When she could take him no further, Rey rocked her hips.

 

His hand in her hair cradled her head, bringing her lips to meet his in an action which was demanding and gentle. Rey heard herself moan this time, the sound as foreign to her as the concept of intimacy.

 

It was elusive, like the idea of home or the prospect of having a family. For someone like her—like them—all of it was out of the question. But the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.

 

Her instincts led her to cant her hips, pressing into him, driving deeper and deeper with each roll. The pressure was delicious. A coiling sensation started in her core, a slow build to something greater. Rey felt her pace quicken in anticipation of achieving it.

 

Kylo's hips rose to meet her, his hands both on her thighs, guiding her to him until they were in sync. The second it happened, they both let out a cry. He struck a place deep within her, one which had never been touched before.

 

She could feel him tensing up beneath her, his body taut like a rope. Rey sealed her lips to his. Kylo responded hungrily and it sent her over the edge. Their coupling was explosive, causing her to see fireworks dance across her vision.

 

Kylo let out an inhuman roar, thrusting wildly. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest. He bucked against her a few more times before collapsing back into the mattress. 

 

Rey brushed several strands of hair out of his face, pleased to note the sheen of sweat covering his pale skin. As she drew her hand back, Kylo caught it. Rey narrowed her eyes but he ignored the distrust in her gaze to kiss the inside of her wrist. 

 

She froze.

 

"Don't be afraid," he said, reaching for her other hand. He laced his fingers through hers. "I feel it too."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo watched Rey's chest rise and fall as she rested. She'd fallen asleep only minutes ago, after trying to ignore what he'd told her.

 

He saw the fear in her eyes. She wasn't easily frightened, his little scavenger, but when he kissed her wrist, she was terrified. Facing down the Delphi Kloda, fighting her abusers, and going head to head with him hadn't riled her. One kiss from his lips flustered her enough to hide in the bathroom. 

 

But she hadn't asked him to leave.

 

A smile tugged at his lips. It wasn't much but it was a start.

 

Kylo traced a finger down the length of her arm from her shoulder to her elbow, just the barest hint of pressure, a feather-light caress. Rey stirred in her sleep, hands balling into fists and her body curling in on itself.

 

She looked softer when at rest. The harsh lines of her scowl were erased, giving her a youthful appearance. He had to remind himself she was only nineteen. Her age was easy to forget considering the way she handled situations. The reasoning behind that, however, was all too easy to remember.

 

Had Rey not killed Plutt or his associates, Kylo would have. She hadn't shared the full story with him but he knew enough. When she was ready to tell him the rest, he'd be there to listen. 

 

Because he was her partner.

 

In all things.

 

Leaning over her, Kylo planted a kiss on her shoulder, followed by another on her collarbone, and another on her neck. Rey murmured sleepily, "Kylo?" 

 

"You fell asleep, sweetheart."

 

"How long was I out?" Her voice was hoarse from her rest.

 

"Twenty minutes," he answered.

 

She jabbed her elbow backward into his ribs. "Why did you let me sleep?"

 

"Excuse me?" he groaned. 

 

Rey reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the clock to read the time. "We only have four hours and twenty-three minutes left."

 

"Mmmm." Kylo kissed her neck again before lightly biting at the flesh. "Then I guess I'll have to keep you busy so you don't fall asleep again," he told her with a smirk.

 

He ran his palm past her hip to her knee, gently guiding her leg to hook behind him.

 

"Kylo." Rey tried to roll over but he kept his arm wrapped around her leg, holding her in place.

 

"You had your fun, sweetheart. I let you take what you wanted. Now, it's my turn."

 

Neither of them fell asleep after that.

 

The sun rose on New York, crowning the city in golden splendor. Few sunrises had ever been as brilliant or memorable. It welcomed the dawn of a new order and of the king and queen who would deliver it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started a new fic, which is my take on the A/B/O trope. If you're interested, you can find it here: [Chemicals Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211430/chapters/47895310)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit over 500 kudos with the last update. Thank you all so much for your support!!!
> 
> There are more canon references in this chapter, as our favorite murder duo embarks on their partnership.
> 
> Thank you to my completely amazing beta, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for all her help.

 

Rey blinked against the warm light laying across her face. She rolled over and felt her body cringe in protest. Thanks to the man sleeping aside her, she was sore _everywhere_.

 

Kylo’s hair was tousled, black strands haphazardly strewn around his face and contrasting against the stark white pillow. There was no smug grin on his face or any tension in his brow; he appeared to be at peace.

 

Her lips twitched as she attempted to hide a smile. She didn’t want to give her partner the satisfaction of being right, no matter how true it was. Unconsciously, Rey reached over, fingertips barely brushing along his forehead to push his hair out of his face. As she drew her hand back, Kylo grabbed hold of her wrist.

 

“And where do you think you’re going?” he rumbled, voice laden with sleep. He hadn't even opened his eyes yet. 

 

“To get dressed,” Rey replied haughtily.

 

“You don’t need to do that,” he argued, yanking her closer.

 

“It’s almost time to pick up Chewie,” she pointed out. “You fell asleep and we overslept.”

 

“Sweetheart,” he groaned. “I need to rest some time, and so do you, especially after that last round.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she resisted the urge to swat him. He’d probably like it. _Sadist_. 

 

She wasn’t sure how he distinguished an end or beginning to their series of activities. All she could remember was the feel of him all around her. Rey had lost count of how many times she’d cried out his name. Somewhere around the time her voice went hoarse, she'd also given up control. Though the round Kylo referred to had been one where she was on top. Rey couldn’t contain her satisfied smirk and he noticed.

 

“I think we have time for one more,” he suggested, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, inching her down to meet him.

 

“Kylo.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

She shoved against his bare chest with a laugh. “Get dressed.”

 

His eyes followed her around the room while she collected her discarded clothes. “You know, I’m starting to hate that dog.”

 

“Excuse me?” Rey paused where she was, trying to discern if he was joking or not. 

 

“You love him more than me,” Kylo grumbled, sitting up and combing a hand through his hair. 

 

A fluttering sensation filled her stomach. _Love_. She’d never loved anything before. She couldn’t allow herself to feel so deeply knowing that in the end, she’d have to leave. Or worse. 

 

Rey scooped up the last of her garments and locked herself in the bathroom. She leaned against the door, her chest rising and falling with each nervous breath. She didn’t _love_ Chewie. He was only a dog. Just a massive, protective, affectionate, gentle...

 

_Shit._

 

Kylo was right. 

 

_Again._

 

She chewed on her lower lip. Loving Chewie was fine. He was a loyal pet who had helped her with Grummgar. If Rey thought about it from a strategic sense, she could classify him as a weapon. There was nothing wrong with loving a weapon. Weapons enabled her to close contracts and get paid. Weapons kept her safe.

 

While she got dressed, Rey reminded herself of who she was — a survivor. A monster. She stiffened. Love wasn’t an emotion monsters were permitted to feel. Any preference she showed for Chewie was born out of self-interest. He helped keep her safe and could take out an opponent nearly as quick as she could. Her connection to him was purely selfish.

 

 _That’s all it is_ , Rey told herself.

 

She couldn’t afford to be anything more. She couldn’t open herself up to that kind of disappointment. A tear slipped unbidden from her eyes and hurriedly brushed it away as if destroying the evidence of her feelings would erase them from her heart.

 

Rey didn’t want to think about what it would mean for her if she actually _did_ love Chewie. The dog was a nuisance. Attachments were risky and she’d already tempted fate by paying Kalonia to treat him. Any further involvement on her part was unnecessary.

 

So why did she feel so responsible?

 

She moved to the sink, turning on the water full blast to splash her flushed face. The cold helped calm her, until she glanced up at her reflection.

 

Her body was riddled with purpling bruises along her neck and chest. There was even one on her hip. Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t remember that one, but she remembered Kylo’s voice in her ear as he drove into her and her enthusiastic response. 

 

_Mine._

 

_Yours._

 

Rey ducked her head down, splashing more water on her face.

 

She was being irrational. She didn’t belong to anyone, least of all the First Order’s number one hitman. He knew the rules, same as her. What had happened last night was a much-needed release. It was normal, healthy even, for two people to engage in those types of activities.

 

Just because it had been her first time didn’t make it special. Just because Rey had felt comfortable enough to give in to her baser instincts didn’t mean she cared about the man. No, this was fine. It was nothing to be concerned with. It was just business. Nothing more.

 

At least that’s what she told herself, but as she gazed down, Rey focused on her hammering pulse. She turned over her wrist, studying the blue lines she could make out near the joint. She should have died that night. That amount of blood loss ended one way — with a body in the morgue.

 

And yet, here she stood, staring at herself, desperately trying to make sense of Kylo Ren’s actions.

 

Rey could tell herself that he’d done it to manipulate her into becoming his partner. It wasn’t necessarily true though. He’d been prepared to walk out. She’d been the one who asked him to stay. It had been _her_ choice. He’d always given her a choice and last night was no exception.

 

He was different from the other men she’d known. Dark, cunning, but above  everything else, Kylo Ren was compassionate. She’d seen it in the way he was with Chewie and she saw it in how tender he was with her. It was unnerving.

 

Almost as unnerving as how affected she was by him.

 

Somehow he’d managed to crawl under her skin, burrowing so deep there was no chance of her digging him out. Like ivy scaling a garden terrace, he’d climbed over her walls and no matter how she tried to push him away, he remained stubbornly at her side.

 

She’d never be rid of him. That fact didn’t scare her. What scared Rey was the fact she didn’t want to. For the first time in her life, she wanted to trust. She wanted him to stay. Forever. 

 

“Rey?” Kylo knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” she called out to him.

 

She took a moment to school her features. No matter how conflicted she felt on the inside, Rey couldn’t afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment. In this room, they could be Kylo and Rey. Once they left, the real world would take hold and it would be business as usual. 

 

Kylo was waiting for her when she exited the bathroom, “Ready?” 

 

She nodded. 

 

He opened the door and together they walked out.

 

* * *

 

 

Doc met them outside the Met entrance. Chewie was sitting obediently at her feet, tongue hanging out of his mouth. The second he saw Kylo in the crowd, he scurried over to his master.

 

“Hey, boy,” the enforcer greeted his companion. “I hope he wasn’t any trouble,” Kylo remarked to Kalonia, as she made her way toward them.

 

“Not at all. He’s better than most of my human patients, yourself included, Mr. Ren.” 

 

Rey turned her face away to stifle a laugh.

 

“Ms. Niima, I didn’t expect to see you here,” the Doc commented, raising an eyebrow.

 

“She’s with me,” Kylo explained. 

 

“If you’re worried about the cost, Mr. Ren, I assure you, Ms. Niima already provided ample compensation for his treatment,” the Doc returned, misreading the situation.

 

“And I can assure you, Doctor, Ms. Niima is here of her own free will,” Kylo clarified. His tone declared that there was nothing more to be said on the subject. The doctor immediately dropped it.

 

“Thank you for your help,” Rey told the woman. 

 

“My pleasure.”

 

The Doc gave them a nod and strolled off, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Kylo held out his hand to Rey. “Shall we?” She blinked up at him confused. He inclined his head toward Central Park. “Since we’re here, we might as well take a walk.”

 

He wasn’t ignorant. He’d caught the way her body had tensed up earlier that morning. Kylo could read the indecision on her face. She was backpedaling, overthinking everything that had transpired between them. Any progress he’d made with her over the last twenty-four hours was slipping away. Rey had been on her own for so long, she didn’t know how to operate with a companion. Her instincts were telling her to bolt. Kylo couldn’t let her do that. 

 

“The Boathouse has an excellent breakfast menu,” he informed her.

 

The furrow in her brow disappeared and her eyes lit up.

 

_Bingo._

 

“My treat,” he offered. “As thanks for Chewie.”

 

She pursed her lips, thinking about it for a minute. Kylo held his breath, until Rey hesitantly slipped her hand into his.

 

He silently cheered. Another small step forward. He counted it as a victory and when she let out a satisfied moan at the taste of her French toast, Kylo decided he’d treat her to whatever she wanted for the rest of their days.

 

* * *

 

 

The Loeb Boathouse was a tranquil location. It sat along the Lake in Central Park. From their spot on the patio, Rey could see people rowing across the water, as well as ducks swimming around. Giant planters split up the tables, giving each party some privacy. Rey wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the intimacy or flustered by it.

 

Doctor Kalonia was the third person to be made aware of their partnership if she didn’t count Maz, the concierge, which she did. So that made it a grand total of four.

 

Rey wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She and Kylo hadn’t spoken about keeping their arrangement secret but they were both aware of the risks associated with teaming up. Loyalties were hazardous in their line of work. They left one open to exploitation and manipulation. 

 

With the Irving brothers dispatched, Rey had climbed up in the standings, sitting second to only Kylo himself. There was a myriad of reasons why someone would target her — greed, jealousy, or as a ploy to get to Kylo.

 

The last one made her stomach turn. Her fork paused over her breakfast. Bazine had already used their relationship to take a shot against Kylo. If Rey had arrived any later that evening, she may not have picked him off the floor. She may have been delivering him to the morgue. Suddenly, her breakfast didn’t seem appetizing.

 

“Rey?”

 

She raised her eyes from her plate to meet his questioning gaze. “I’m full,” she lied, pushing the plate away from her.

 

His brow creased but he didn’t press her. Instead, he resumed eating his filet and eggs. Chewie laid beneath their table, happily gnawing away at his own filet, rare and bloody. Rey was transfixed by the red pool on his plate. The unpleasant feeling in her stomach grew. 

 

Was she putting them both at risk by going along with Kylo’s proposal? She couldn’t watch her back and both of theirs at the same time. What if someone happened while she pulled a job for Phasma or what if someone took out a contract on Kylo?

 

“Hey.” Kylo reached across the table and wrapped his hand around hers. “Relax. If you think any harder, there’s going to be steam coming out your ears.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it. 

 

Rey gaped at him. Was Kylo Ren, First Order enforcer and number one hitman, making a joke? Before she could decide, he cleared his throat and went back to their agenda. 

 

“I need to call Cassian about our change of plans,” he remarked, offhandedly. “He should be able to fly us out tonight.”

 

“Fly us out?”

 

“To the safe house so we can train,” he reminded her. “Do you need to stop anywhere before we go? Canto Bight Casino, perhaps?” he questioned with a devilish smile.

 

Rey narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

 

“No. Just like I’m not going to forget the fact you haven’t explained to me why you refuse to use a gun.”

 

Her cheeks burned, partially from shame and partially because she couldn’t believe he remembered. Rey wasn’t used to anyone actually caring about her, especially not someone she could see herself caring for in return. Maybe even falling—

 

 _No_ , she chided herself. _Don’t even think about it._

 

A partnership was one thing. A romantic relationship was an entirely different matter. It involved feelings and a level of intimacy she’d hadn’t achieved with anyone before. It meant telling him everything about her past, which was far more personal than sleeping together. At least to Rey. 

 

She had to regain control of the situation.

 

“I’ll make you a deal, partner,” Rey offered. “Once we start training, for every sparring match you win against me, I’ll answer one of your questions. And if I win, you have to answer one of mine.”

 

“Seems fair,” he mused. “But if you’re curious, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.” He winked suggestively.

 

“Oh, really?” she challenged. “Then tell me why you got Chewie?”

 

At the mention of his name, the dog perked up. 

 

Kylo settled back into his chair. “Well played.”

 

“So, do we have a deal?” Rey held out her hand to shake on it.

 

Kylo grinned. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

From the outside, the Zeta-class plane didn’t look like much. It was one of the ways its pilot and owner, Cassian Andor avoided detection. The ship had been renovated from its original cargo layout and outfitted to be a luxurious passenger plane. The private transport arrived and departed as per its client’s schedule.

 

And today, that client was Kylo Ren.

 

As they entered the hangar, he watched Rey’s eyes widened. She took in the plane, her curious gaze running over every inch of the steel aircraft, before landing on its name.

 

“Rogue One?”

 

“It’s an old joke,” Kylo explained.

 

Rey opened her mouth to inquire further, but she was interrupted by Cassian, emerging from the plane.

 

“Kylo. Good to see you.”

 

“Captain Andor,” Kylo returned. He strolled up to the pilot, intending to confirm their flight details. The man gave him a firm handshake in greeting, before turning his attention to Rey. “And this must be your partner.”

 

“Cassian Andor, this is Rey Niima,” Kylo introduced them, making sure to place his hand on Rey’s lower back.

 

He knew Cassian was hopelessly in love with his wife. There wasn’t any reason to worry. Yet, when it came to Rey, Kylo couldn’t help being irrational. 

 

Cassian caught the possessive touch and cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you,” he told her. “We should make good time,” he advised Kylo. “A storm just blew out. Nothing but smooth sailing our way.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I just need to check in with the tower and then we’ll get ready for take-off,” Cassian informed them. 

 

“Thank you.” Kylo led Rey onto the aircraft, Chewie trailing obediently behind.

 

The interior of the plane was arranged much like a hotel suite with a full lounge area, a bar, and a private bedroom and bath. At the front, separating the cabin from the cockpit was a galley, where the crew stood at attention.

 

“Rey, this is Chirrut Iwe and Baze Malbus, the Rogue One chefs,” Kylo introduced her to two men in white uniforms. “This is Kaytoo, Cassian’s co-pilot,” he explained, gesturing to a middle-aged blonde man. “And this,” he gestured to a slim woman with dark brown hair, “is Jyn Erso-Andor, bartender and wife of our captain.”

 

“Hello.” Rey shook hands with each of them. 

 

“Can I get you the usual, Kylo?” Jyn questioned.

 

“Two, please. Rey is a fan as well,” he requested.

 

Jyn nodded and disappeared into the galley to get them their drinks, while Baze and Chirrut began going over their meal options. Kylo let Rey select what she wanted, before ordering his own.

 

Once the crew was occupied, he took her hand. “Care for the tour?”

 

Rey smirked up at him. “That depends.”

 

“On what?”

 

Her grin widened. “If bedroom walls are soundproof or not.”

 

“You’re insatiable,” he replied, leading her into the chamber.

 

“Is that a bad thing?” she countered.

 

“No. Not at all.”

 

“Think you can keep up?” Rey challenged. “Or do I have to teach you endurance?”

 

“Sweetheart,” he crooned, locking the door behind them. “I’m going to be the one teaching you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And away to Italy we go. Happy training, murder babies!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all your amazing comments and kind words. Readers like you keep me motivated to continue writing and I can't express how appreciative I am. Thank you!
> 
> And continued thanks to the always-awesome, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for beta-ing.

 

Rey stared out into the night, watching the clouds pass from their hotel in the sky. While the _Rogue One_ made its journey to Italy, she was still stuck in the same place, circling the same dilemma with no resolution in sight.

 

She thought back to her phone conversation with Phasma. The casino owner hadn’t been pleased when Rey announced she was taking time off to train. 

 

“Are you chasing a new contract?” the blonde had inquired, tapping her long nails against her desk loud enough for the receiver to pick up her movements.

 

“No,” Rey admitted. “I need to brush up on some skills.”

 

“What skills?” Phasma questioned skeptically, the tapping effectively stopped.

 

Rey pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling slowly. “I made a mistake with one of my marks. I need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

 

That was as much information as she was willing to share. Anything else would lead to further inquiries and she was in no mood to get into another fight with Phasma. 

 

“When will you be back?”

 

“I don’t know,” Rey answered. “I’ll call you when I figure it out.”

 

“You still owe me from the dock incident,” Phasma reminded her.

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“Have a nice trip.” The words were laced with sarcasm and contempt. Rey didn’t dignify it with a response and hung up. 

 

As Rey peered out at the stars, she wondered what Phasma would say if she confessed to everything. Would the casino owner reprimand her for getting in over her head? Would she mock her for letting Kylo get under her skin? Would she open a contract on Rey? Or worse, Kylo?

 

She sighed, unsure what action Phasma would take. One thing was certain of though, was when Phasma discovered Rey was in a partnership with Kylo Ren, they’d have words. Rey just needed to be prepared. 

 

Phasma wasn’t an active assassin anymore, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know her way around a weapon. The woman was as cunning and cold-blooded as they came. Rey would never underestimate her. She would advise Kylo to do the same. Just in case.

 

As if hearing her thoughts, she heard the bedsheets rustle behind her.

 

“Rey.” Kylo’s voice was low and unwavering. “Come back to bed.”

 

She stared at the space beside him, wondering if his invitation was what she’d been waiting on all along.

 

Wordlessly, Rey crawled in next to him. By the time her head hit the pillow, she was out cold. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Malpensa Airport was small compared to JFK. With less traffic than the overpopulated New York hub, Cassian had no problem landing the aircraft and ushering them out a side exit.

 

The drive to Varykino was about ninety minutes, all of which Kylo planned on using to his advantage. Rey had been attempting to keep him at an arm’s length since they ate dinner on the flight. No matter how he had tempted her, she refused to return to the bedroom. Chewie, on the other hand, took up the entire king-sized bed, as if the luxury was meant just for him. 

 

His little killer had been quiet for hours. He found her staring out the window, deep in thought. Kylo desperately wanted to know what plagued her mind. He’d never crossed the line into intimacy before. It opened up the possibility for more, the possibility to share everything with her. He only wished she felt the same. 

 

“While we are here, I’ll introduce you to Felix,” he offered, trying to draw her out of her reverie. “He can outfit you with a new suit.”

 

Her lips twitched as she shifted to face him. “You’re taking me to see your tailor?”

 

“He’s the best in the business,” Kylo confirmed, a slight smile on his face.

 

Rey turned away, resuming her prior position, staring out the window. “I don’t need a new suit,” she muttered. 

 

Kylo gripped his kneecaps roughly to prevent himself from snatching her hand. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the driver. And if there was one thing he’d learned about the Scavenger, it was that she didn’t like being cornered. Like a feral cat, she would scrape and claw her way out before ever submitting.

 

“We can start training tomorrow,” he suggested. “Give you time to settle in.”

 

Her body went rigid but she remained silent. He told her about the lake and how the house had been modernized. He shared with her the history of the area, leaving out a few specific details and told her about the town’s market. Nothing pulled her out of her thoughts.

 

Kylo finally gave in to his instincts. He reached across the backseat to lace his fingers through hers. “Rey.”

 

She snapped to attention and her lower lip quivered. Kylo felt his throat tighten at the sight of her watery eyes.

 

“What is it?” he asked, sliding over.

 

She stubbornly shook her head. The tears vanished and her jaw sat firm. Her walls were back up. She was backpedaling again.

 

“We can train in New York if you’re not comfortable. Just say the word and I’ll call Cassian,” he told her.

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “We are here to train. So let’s train.”

 

“We don’t have to start right away,” he remarked.

 

“I want to,” Rey responded. “We came here to sharpen our skills. That’s the objective.”

 

“Rey.”

 

“ _Kylo_ ,” she said his name pointedly. “I’m fine.”

 

“Alright,” he relented, not believing her. 

 

They kept silent the remainder of the drive. He didn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t pull away. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rey’s breathing was labored. Sweat ran down her neck, following the curve of her spine, until it hit the hem of her leggings. She’d tossed off her shirt about an hour ago, feeling confined by the thin fabric. Left in her sports bra, she squared off against Kylo.

 

They’d been sparring all afternoon, only breaking to get a drink of water before resuming their intense rivalry.

 

Whether it was the extra sleep she’d gotten or the fact that she no longer had the trafficking ring hanging over her head, Rey felt energized. She charged at Kylo time and time again—dodging his strikes, avoiding his punches, and leaping out of reach when he let a kick fly. 

 

With each passing minute, she learned more about his fighting style. And more about him. His focus was intense, just like the rest of him; she had to be strategic. 

 

Rey swept her leg out, knocking his feet out from under him. He landed on the smooth stone of the patio and she immediately sat on his chest, pinning his hands down.

 

“I believe that’s one point to me,” she crowed victoriously.

 

“One,” he agreed, begrudgingly.

 

She rocked back, humming as she debated what to ask first. Kylo had been tight-lipped about Chewie’s origins but Rey also wondered about his past. After all, he already knew she was an orphan, but he’d never revealed if he had a family.

 

“How did you get into the business?” she inquired.

 

“The usual way, I imagine,” he replied. Rey cocked an eyebrow at him.

 

“Kylo,” she purred, withdrawing a blade from her boot. “Do I have to remind you about the terms of our deal?”

 

“So impatient,” he replied with mock annoyance. Rey twirled her knife, waiting for him to deliver.

 

“I was born into it,” he continued. “My grandfather was an assassin. Once they were old enough, my mother and my uncle followed in his footsteps. My mother met my father while she was on a mission.”

 

Rey stared down at him, intrigued. She hadn’t heard of any contract killers in a relationship before, especially not one that lasted long enough to produce a child.

 

Noting her expression, Kylo chuckled, “It wasn’t exactly love at first sight. She thought he was a scoundrel and he believed she was more trouble than she was worth.”

 

“So what happened?” Rey asked, tucking her knife back into her shoe. She rocked back onto her feet and gave him a hand.

 

Kylo straightened up, brushing himself off. “My uncle got in a pinch and they had to work together to get him out. After that, they were inseparable. At least until I came along. They didn’t know how to give up their careers and be parents. All they could share with me was their skills. They brought me up to be like them. In the end, though, I was just a complication, a reminder of their doomed relationship. They sent me away when I was fifteen. I haven’t spoken to them since,” he finished with a noncommittal shrug. 

 

They retired to the house, following a narrow path into the kitchen for glasses of water.

 

Rey mulled over the details. For years, she’d seen herself as broken, a hollow shell of the smiling girl who’d been stolen from her home. Initially, she had blamed Plutt and his associates but as she matured, Rey realized she was at fault too. 

 

She could have ran. She could have returned to Britain and tried to find her family. The only thing holding her back had been her fear—fear of rejection, of disappointing her family when they discovered she was no longer that same ray of sunshine. That was a fate worse than death. 

 

Rey had never considered the possibility that Kylo Ren had suffered just as much to become the man he was. While their stories differed, the main theme was the same. They’d been abandoned, abused, and alienated. They’d grown up away from their families, without experiencing love or trust, shielding themselves in a cold, calculated regime. To survive in this life, they had to become something far worse than the inner demons which haunted them. 

 

She sat down her glass, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for telling me.”

 

“We had an accord,” Kylo reminded her.

 

Rey nodded in agreement, even though it went without saying that he had shared more than enough to satisfy the terms of their deal. She dropped her gaze to her empty glass. The more she learned about him, the more complicated her feelings became. Perhaps agreeing to stay in Varykino with him hadn’t been a good idea. His proximity was already challenging enough.

 

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” he quipped, interrupting her emotional dilemma.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I threw that round,” Kylo said with a smirk.

 

Rey narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Consider it a warm-up,” she returned.

 

“Go again?”

 

“You read my mind.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Got you,” Kylo announced lowly as he pinned Rey to the wall.

 

“You don’t have anything,” she snarled.

 

“Don’t I?” He kept his hands placed firmly around her wrists, not allowing her to wriggle away.

 

Frustrated, she snapped out a kick which swung past his torso without hitting its target. His arms could stretch out far enough that there was little to no risk of her landing a strike. 

 

“Admit it,” he urged. “I won this match.”

 

“Fine,” Rey said with a huff.

 

Once she conceded, Kylo freed her. She continued to glare up at him, irritation souring her mood.

 

“Told you,” he chuckled.

 

“Excuse me?” she snapped.

 

“I let you win last time,” he admitted.

 

Then promptly ducked as Rey swung a punch at him.

 

“I’m not here for your amusement. I’m here to train,” she growled, advancing on him.

 

“I am training you,” he told her, dodging a right hook. “If I couldn’t beat you, what value you would gain from sparring with me. You have to lose, so you can learn from your mistakes and win in the future.”

 

She stalled, eyes scrutinizing him. Her body was glistening with sweat and her cheeks were flushed. He watched her chest rise and fall with each heavy breath. She was done.

 

“Let’s end here for today,” Kylo suggested.

 

“No, I want to go again,” Rey argued, maneuvering into a starting stance.

 

“Sweetheart, you’re tired. I’m tired. Pushing it won’t do any good. Trust me.”

 

She stiffened at his choice of words and Kylo reminded himself to tread carefully. She was already agitated. Pushing her too hard or too fast was going to push her right out of his life. He needed to be patient. He needed to remain calm. For once. 

 

“You’ll feel better after a shower. You can go first,” he volunteered.

 

“I’m not done yet.”

 

“Yes, you are. Let’s go inside.”

 

“You go,” Rey snarked. “I’m staying.”

 

Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. She was teaching him already. She was teaching him just how little patience he had.

 

Which became evident when he scooped her up and carried her—kicking and screaming—into the house.

 

Chewie, who had been busy chasing birds around the property, immediately came to their side. He thought it was a game and playfully nipped at Rey’s flailing hands and feet. 

 

“Down,” Kylo ordered.

 

“When I get my hands on you, Ren,” Rey seethed, as they entered the master bedroom.

 

“Go on,” he coaxed. “I like it when you talk dirty to me.”

 

With that, he set her down in the shower, crowding the doorway so she couldn’t leave.

 

“You still owe me an answer,” Kylo reminded her. “Since I’m feeling generous, you can decide which story you want to tell—what you’re doing at Canto Bight or why you don’t use a gun? Your choice.”

 

While she debated her options, he peeled off his clothing, tossing the garments to the floor. He didn’t comment on the hungry way Rey’s eyes trailed over his bare flesh. Some things were worth the wait.

 

“You really want to do this now?” she asked, the bite gone from her voice.

 

“Are you proposing we do something else?” he questioned, stepping in beside her.

 

Rey stripped out of her clothes, with a slow roll of her hips and a shimmy of her chest. Kylo reached past her to turn on the water.

 

He had his answer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, in control of the situation, Rey pivoted so she was facing away from him. She planted her hands on the shower wall and began to shift her feet apart when he stopped her.

 

“No.” Kylo’s hand was on her chin, directing her to turn around. “I want to see you.”

 

Rey felt her throat swell and her chest tighten. She kept trying to convince herself what she felt was purely physical, that the only reason she was standing naked in front of Kylo Ren right now was that she wanted to satisfy her own selfish cravings. It was only partly true. Rey did want to satisfy her cravings, but they weren’t carnal in nature. 

 

She wanted those quiet moments together talking. She wanted shared meals and walls with Chewie. She wanted to see his proud expression when she finished a job. She wanted to be there to back him up on his contracts. She wanted it all.

 

With Kylo.

 

It was foolish. They couldn’t be anything more than what they were. It was a death sentence. Rey knew that and had warned herself not to get attached. Yet, here she was, under the shower spray, staring up at him as if he was her entire world and wishing he’d see her the same way.

 

She bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood but the pain was too little, too late. Her emotions betrayed her. A tear slipped free, joining the water as it descended toward the drain. She ducked her head, trying to hide it from him.

 

“Rey.” Kylo tilted her head up with a single finger. “Sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

 

His concern was so raw and genuine that it broke her. A full sob escaped her lips and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to move away. Kylo wasn’t having it. He enveloped her in a hug, rubbing his hands gently up and down her back.

 

“You’re alright. I’m here. I’ve got you,” Kylo promised.

 

“Don’t leave,” she begged, voice cracking as she spoke. “Stay with me. Please.”

 

“Rey.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. You chose me as your partner. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. For better or worse.”

 

She clung to him, burying her face in his chest. Kylo held onto her, repeating his promise over and over again as he continued to rub her back. He didn’t let go until she quieted.

 

Once they were clean, he wrapped her in a towel and carried her into the bedroom. Chewie was asleep at the foot of the bed, snoring softly.

 

Rey crawled under the covers, eyes red and swollen from crying. It had been years since she’d let go the way she had in the shower. An emotional display of that magnitude was almost unheard of in their profession. Killers were too cold to feel heartache. Perhaps she wasn’t a monster after all. 

 

Kylo climbed into bed, curling around her. He didn’t say anything but Rey could feel his gaze upon her, trying to work out what to do next.

 

She rolled over, facing him and cleared her throat. “I clipped myself,” Rey admitted.

 

“What?” Kylo immediately grabbed her hands, inspecting them for injuries.

 

Rey withdrew from his grasp. “When I was eleven, I was studying under Ashoka. You were right. I was at her school but I wasn’t her best pupil. That honor belonged to Gwen—Phasma,” she clarified.

 

Kylo stared at her, silent and patient as she revealed the details of her story.

 

“I hadn’t been there as long as Gwen and I was afraid if I didn’t excel, Ashoka would cast me out. I didn’t want to go back to Plutt, so I studied at night. Whatever we practiced during the day, I spent hours replicating in the evenings. Then one day, we started on semi-automatics. I struggled with the weight of the gun. I was smaller than the others and I couldn't grip it properly. So that night, I snuck a handgun out of the locker and took it up to the roof for some target practice.”

 

She switched on the bedside lamp and held her right hand up. A raised section of skin caught the light. “I clipped myself on the slide, nearly chewed right through the webbing on my hand. I still have the scar. After that, I was too scared to learn how to use the weapon properly. I dedicated all my time to blade techniques and trained myself to be faster than a pulled trigger.”

 

There was a pause. Then she muttered, “It’s stupid. I know.” 

 

Gently, Kylo took hold of her hand and placed a kiss along her scar. “It’s not stupid. You don’t have to use a gun,” he informed her. “You’re deadly enough with your knives.”

 

“I want to learn,” Rey insisted. “I want _you_ to teach me.”

 

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he agreed.

 

Rey thanked him, feeling a weight lift off her chest. She hadn’t felt comfortable holding a firearm since that night, but with Kylo she wasn’t afraid anymore. She knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

 

“About the casino,” she started.

 

Kylo pressed a fingertip to her lips. “I only earned one tale for tonight, sweetheart. You can tell me that story tomorrow.” 

 

She smiled. He’d seen her come apart at the seams and he still respected her. He was still honoring their agreement. She turned off the light, cloaking them in darkness. 

 

“If you win,” Rey teased.

 

“Oh, I’ll win,” he vowed, pulling her to his chest. 

 

She stopped holding on to her fears and finally let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Rey had a theme song for this chapter, it would be [I'm Yours](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_jVRKsZqWc)
> 
> I mean how could she say no to *that* man? He may be an international killer, but he's HER killer...with puppy dog eyes  
> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from vacay with an update and a new WIP (for those who love Chewie in this relationship). It's a lighter modern AU aka a doggie meet-cute: [If Lost, Please Return](http://reysexualkylo.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful friend and devoted beta, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works).

 

He suspected this intimacy was something she had never shared with anyone. It was a luxury she hadn’t given him prior. He’d been patient, allowing her to come to him. Now, finally, his dedication had proven to Rey that she could trust him and in turn, she finally let him in. He decided he was going to show her how perfect this partnership could be. 

 

He was going to _worship_ her.

 

It wasn’t the same as before. He was still overwhelmed by his need for her. Yet there was no urgency or desperation. He wasn’t afraid she’d be gone with the morning light. He could take his time  exploring his little killer with his hands and his mouth. Kylo went teasingly slow, skimming his broad hands up Rey’s body, taking the time to note every birthmark and scar. He placed kisses on each, losing count by the time he reached her freckles. 

 

“Kylo,” she breathed out his name, fingers tangling in his hair.

 

Rey shuddered underneath him as his lips descended upon her neck. Even after their vigorous training, her body was responsive. It was as if his touch awakened her. She writhed beneath him when he caressed her thigh, lifting it only high enough to reposition her legs so he could lay between them. She whimpered when he dragged his fingertips across her hip bone. Kylo enjoyed hearing her, prompted to continue by the gasps she let escape.

 

The butterfly-light touches were a test. He wanted to see how long he could keep her on edge, before one or both of them finally broke. It wouldn't take much. He was already hard against her. Her flesh was flushed from her desire, burning like the sun at her core. The heat came off of her in waves. It drew him in, the way a rip current dragged a swimmer under. He was helpless to stop it and powerless to resist.

 

Kylo allowed her to consume him. He didn’t think about the fact that he hadn’t killed anyone in over twenty-four hours. He didn’t spare a passing glance at his bedside table where his gun sat. He didn’t listen for sounds of his phone ringing with today’s new contract listing. For once, the demon inside him didn’t demand blood. The dark voice in his head was quiet, leaving him free to bask in the moment, uninterrupted in his discovery of Rey. 

 

Trailing his hand up her leg, he watched her lips part, her eyes tracking the moderate motion. The hazel color shifted to a warm brown, enhanced by flecks of gold. When he reached her waist, her hand met his.They were joined together as one—colleagues, partners, lovers. 

 

He captured her mouth with his. Rey moaned as she bucked up into him. Kylo intertwined their fingers together and positioned her hands overhead as he pressed in.

 

It wasn’t like before. This sensual dance they were participating in wasn’t built on frantic movements or a fight for dominance. This was something else.

 

Kylo knew the name for it.

 

He also knew it would get either him or both of them killed. Gazing down into Rey’s eyes, open and trusting, he decided it was worth the risk. 

 

Because, for her, he’d risk anything.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey woke to a cold nose shoved in her face. Groggily, she blinked open her eyes until Chewie’s muzzle came into focus.

 

“Hey, boy,” she greeted him with a scratch behind the ears. “Do you have to go out?”

 

His ears perked up, which she took to mean yes. Rey slipped free of Kylo’s arms, pausing for a second before she leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. “I’ll be back,” she promised.

 

He didn’t move, not that she expected him too. Yesterday had been exhausting for both of them. Apart from the physical conditioning they had undergone, there was the added benefit of their newfound intimacy. They’d made a lot of progress since leaving New York. It was a lot to unpack, so she decided to simply bask in the feeling. At least, for the time being. 

 

Rey plucked Kylo’s shirt up off the floor. She shrugged it on, fastening the lower buttons and rolling up the sleeves several times so she was able to move. She didn’t bother with shoes, but she did pause to secure her holster on her thigh. Wherever she went, her knives went too. 

 

Chewie waited expectantly by the bedroom door. When she swung it open, he took off for the patio. She unlatched the double doors, freeing the dog. Rey followed him outside onto the rear terrace. The lake water splashed against the barrier wall of the villa, only several yards away from where she stood. It reminded her a bit of the Boathouse. 

 

Varykino was far more secluded than the Central Park bistro. The villa’s ancient architecture was unlike anything she’d seen in the city. The yard was decorated with lush gardens, home to more plant species than she could recognize. 

 

While Chewie ran around, sniffing for an appropriate spot, Rey followed the steps down to through garden path. She strolled down to the lake, peering out at the crystal blue landscape. It was clear as glass, unlike the murky waters of the Hudson. Pure, the way last night with Kylo had felt. 

 

It was the first time someone had touched her with such reverence. The sensation of his fingertips grazing her bare skin lingered long after they’d fallen back into the sheets. She touched her lips, the ghost of his tender kiss hovering there.

 

Rey was so lost in the memory that she didn’t hear the intruder approach until a twig snapped behind her. 

 

Her hand was on her blade in a flash. With a snap of her wrist, she let the knife fly. It landed with a heavy thud in the dirt. 

 

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” the stranger begged, holding his hands up. When she didn’t make another move, he glanced down at her weapon. It had cut through the leg of his slacks but had otherwise left him unharmed.

 

“You missed,” he scoffed.

 

“I didn’t miss,” she advised him. 

 

He visibly swallowed at her warning. He was a tall, slim man with hardly any muscle tone. So not an assassin. Regardless, Rey pulled another blade from her holster.

 

“Who are you?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.

 

“Who am _I_?” the man sputtered, clearly offended. “ _I_ am Cesare the Third.”

 

“Excuse me?” Rey arched a brow at him as she gave her knife a twirl. 

 

“Cesare Paolo Oreste,” he clarified, nervously. “The third.”

 

“And what are you doing here?” Rey inquired flatly.

 

“What am _I_ doing here?” he questioned, his agitation winning out over his fear. “What are _you_ doing here? This property belongs to a very important member of the First Order.”

 

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, her hip jutting out. “Oh really?”

 

“Yes,” Cesare confirmed. “I’d advise you to leave before he returns to find you trespassing. He is not a very understanding individual.”

 

“So I’ve heard.” Rey grinned. 

 

The man stared at her, unsure how to take her reaction.

 

Before she could instigate him further, a shadow fell across her face. Cesare’s eyes widened, his gaze no longer focused on Rey.

 

“Master B—”

 

“ _Threepio_ ,” Kylo greeted the man tersely, as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Rey winked at the housekeeper. “I see you two have met,” he remarked, before placing a kiss on top of her head.

 

“We were just getting acquainted,” Rey told him, wondering if the wiry Italian man’s head would explode. He looked irate. Apparently, he didn’t share her sense of humor. Pity. 

 

“Cesare has been working at this villa since my grandparents lived here,” Kylo informed her. “When I was younger, I couldn’t pronounce his full name so I called him Threepio. I didn’t see a reason to change it.”

 

She smiled. “I like it.”

 

“Master Ren,” the housekeeper started.

 

“Yes?” Kylo answered, annoyed.

 

“How long will you be staying in Varykino?”

 

“As long as we want,” he responded. “Please make sure to let Artoo know. I noticed the grounds need some work.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And if Rey asks for anything, I expect you to listen. She’s my guest,” Kylo explained.

 

“Of course, Master Ren.”

 

“Dismissed,” Kylo said, waving him off.

 

Rey waited until Cesare was out of sight to laugh. “He’s a character.”

 

“You have no idea,” Kylo muttered. He wrapped himself around her, burying his head in her hair. “I didn’t know where you were when I woke up. I thought you ran off on me.”

 

She hugged her arms around his. “Chewie needed to go out. I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

Kylo rolled his hips against her. “I’m awake now. We could go back to bed. It’s still early.”

 

“I don’t think your butler likes me,” Rey commented, ignoring his proposition.

 

“I don’t care what he likes,” he mumbled, before kissing his way down the column of her throat.

 

“Kylo.”

 

“Rey.” He nibbled on her earlobe and she felt her knees go weak. Damn him for knowing her body better than she did. 

 

“Later,” she assured him. “You promised to show me how to shoot.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?” he agreed. He pressed a final kiss to her temple. “Very well, but first, breakfast.”

 

Rey couldn’t argue with that.

 

* * *

 

 

After breakfast—and to avoid Threepio’s judgmental gaze—Kylo led Rey outside to the far section of the garden, where there was a wide-open section by the water.

 

He didn’t often visit that particular spot. It was the place where his grandparents had been married, with only their housekeeper and groundskeeper to serve as witnesses. He had hidden the photograph long ago, unable to look upon their happy union. It was torturous when he considered his own parents failed nuptials. He’d avoided the spot too. However, it was the only location which offered both space and privacy from Threepio’s curiosity.

 

“Take out your weapon,” Kylo instructed Rey.

 

She opened the box he’d gifted her in Paris, withdrawing the semi-automatic pistol. He watched as she checked the gun to make sure a magazine was loaded and shifted her hands around, trying to determine if her positioning would result in another scar.

 

“Here.” He maneuvered himself behind her, placing his hands over hers to demonstrate how to properly grip the weapon. The Glock looked perfect in her small hands, just as he knew it would.

 

“Alright, now I want you to stand facing the water,” he told her. “There’s no one around for miles. No one to hear the shots or for you to worry about hitting. Threepio and Chewie are confined to the house. It’s just us now.”

 

“Okay,” she replied with a shaky breath.

 

“The spring might give you some trouble since it’s brand new,” he advised. “If you can’t draw it back with your thumb and forefinger, drag your palm across the top.” Rey shot him a look. “You won’t cut yourself on the slider if you hold it that way,” he clarified.

 

She followed his instructions, keeping the barrel of the gun pointed down and away from him.

 

“Good. Now, do you remember how to aim?” Kylo questioned, stepping back to give her space. He didn’t want to crowd her when she was already nervous.

 

“Ahsoka told us to keep it level and align the front sight with the rear sight,” she answered.

 

“Correct. Since your dominant side is your right, you need to learn to ignore what you see from your left. It will obstruct your depth perception,” he explained. “If it helps, you can—”

 

“I’m not closing one of my eyes,” Rey cut him off.

 

“Alright,” he replied with a chuckle. If she was confident enough to backtalk him, she was confident enough to continue.

 

“The sights will shift with the pulse of your heartbeat. If you watch it closely enough, you’ll see it makes a figure-eight design. When the sights are at the bottom of the figure-eight, pull the trigger.”

 

Rey moved forward, falling into a comfortable stance and raised her arms. “Like this?”

 

“Perfect.”

 

She snorted and he imagined she was rolling her eyes at him.

 

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” he said eagerly.

 

Kylo took another step back, studying the way her posture shifted and how her breathing slowed. Rey’s hand clenched in a single controlled motion. A shot rang out, causing a group of birds to take flight behind him. Kylo couldn’t discern if Rey’s responding jerk was from the recoil or them.

 

“It packs a kick,” she commented, glancing over her shoulder with a grin.

 

“Just like it’s owner,” he replied.

 

She practiced firing off several rounds until her magazine was emptied. Kylo stood by, silently monitoring her progress. He could see when her fear ebbed and she took pride in her weapon. It pleased him.

 

“How’s your hand?” he asked when she returned to his side.

 

“Sore,” she admitted with a smirk.

 

“You did well,” he praised her. “We’ll continue to work on your speed and your aim, but, for now, let’s give your hand a rest.”

 

They agreed to pick up where they’d left off the day before. 

 

“Remember our deal,” Kylo refreshed her. “One story for every point.”

 

“I know the rules,” Rey responded.

 

“Then let’s see if you learned anything from yesterday,” he taunted her playfully.

 

Kylo waited to see if Rey would make the first move.

 

Committing to the first strike was always a risk. If you underestimated your opponent, you could be stepping into a counter-attack. Plus, it gave your opponent a first impression of your skill level. Inexperienced fighters tended to come in guns-blazing, pulling out all the stops in hopes of scoring a quick victory. Veterans of this life knew better.

 

She steadily circled him, eyes on his feet. _Good_. She was learning how to predict his movements. Any shift of his weight would provide her clues to how he would react and how she could deflect.

 

“Any time now,” he goaded her, deliberately attempting to rattle her.

 

Rey’s eyes narrowed slightly but she didn’t take the bait.

 

_Very good._

 

Kylo lunged for her, watching her feet pivot and catching her before she managed to maneuver out of his reach.

 

_Good, but not good enough._

 

He grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides to keep her from punching him. Naturally, her knee jutted up in retaliation. Kylo twisted his body to the side, hip checking her while simultaneously blocking her kick.

 

She adapted by head-butting him. It was a clean shot, right into the bridge of his nose. He heard the crack before he felt it.

 

“Kylo!” He didn’t realize his hands had moved until hers were grasping at his wrists. “Let me see.”

 

The pain was inconsequential to the lesson he needed to teach her. He grabbed her back, sweeping her arms around until he had her trapped, back flushed to his chest, with no place to go.

 

“Hey!” Rey shrieked.

 

“Any compassion you have out there will get you killed,” Kylo reminded her. “Your mark will take advantage of it and you’ll be dead. Understand?”

 

“No compassion,” she said through clenched teeth. “Got it.”

 

She let her body go lax in his hold, dropping her weight so his arms would loosen and she could drive her elbow up into his ribs. Kylo was forced to release her.

 

He smirked, proud of her ingenuity. Her skills were developing swiftly. It was promising, especially considering the target he’d placed on both their backs by proposing they become partners.

 

Rey came at him, intending to keep him down with a roundhouse kick. She nearly caught him but he managed to be a fraction of a second faster, ducking away and circling back around to grab her leg. He caught her off balance and slammed her down to the ground.

 

“My point,” he grinned victoriously, as he leaned over her.

 

She rolled to her side, coughing. “That was a cheap move,” Rey grumbled.

 

“So was this,” he replied, gesturing to his bruised ribs.

 

“You deserved it.”

 

He chuckled. “You’re improving.”

 

“Thanks,” she responded, picking herself off the ground. “How’s your nose?”

 

“Nothing the Doc can’t fix,” he told her. “I’m more interested in your story.”

 

Rey muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a stubborn asshole, but she relented, on the grounds that they retired inside so he could take care of his nose.

 

When they entered the villa, Threepio was busting pretending he hadn’t been attempting to spy on them. Kylo ignored him, strolling past the thin man to retrieve ice. It wasn’t a common luxury in Italy, but he’d modified the kitchen to include a refrigerator with an ice tray.

 

Once he had the cold compress on his face, Kylo shot Rey an expectant look.

 

“Can we talk,” she paused, glancing over her shoulder at where the housekeeper had been mere seconds before, “somewhere else?”

 

“Let’s take a drive into town,” he suggested. “Come on.”

 

Threepio might not approve of Rey, but Kylo hadn’t cared about his opinion in years. Not since he shared a name with his father. A tale he had yet to tell his partner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Story time for the murder babies...


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. I've been sick and traveling for work and haven't found the time to update. 
> 
> Continued thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) who is an incredible writer. If you haven't already, check out her works.

 

Rey wasn’t surprised to see the custom black Ferrari parked under the villa’s overhang. The other cars in the garage consisted of an onyx Stingray, an obsidian Porsche, and a 1969 Mustang, the color of a starless night. It was that car which held Rey’s attention the longest. 

 

She recognized the muscle car for the beauty it was. The sleek design, larger than its predecessors, was considered to be one of the best, if not  _ the _ best, overhauls in automobile history. Rey had only seen one other vehicle like it before. Han Solo had picked her up from Plutt’s in a silver mustang, as smooth and resilient as he was. It had been a fitting car for the smuggler, just as this car’s dark, seductive design matched its owner. 

 

Kylo always wore an all-black suit and he only owned all-black vehicles. He had very specific tastes. Which was why she was surprised to find the interior of the Ferrari was crimson red leather. He caught her raised eyebrow and read the silent question from her expression.

 

“Not what you were expecting?” he inquired with a smirk. 

 

“I didn’t realize you liked any other colors,” she commented, matching his grin.

 

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, sweetheart,” Kylo replied as he put the car in drive.

 

He ripped out of the compound in a cloud of dust and with a squeal of rubber. Rey laughed, imagining the indignant look decorating Cesare’s face. She didn’t have to imagine how displeased he was by her presence. She’d caught his expression when Kylo escorted her out.

 

“What else don’t I know about you?” she asked with a challenging tone. 

 

“You owe me an answer first,” he reminded her. 

 

“Don’t I get a reward for doing so well this morning?” Rey inquired.

 

He mulled it over, lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on the road. “Fine,” he eventually agreed. “I’ll tell you something you don’t know about me, something of my choosing, after you tell me what I want to know.” 

 

“Deal,” she agreed.

 

Kylo tilted his head in her direction. “I’m listening.”

 

“I told you that Phasma and I came up together at Ahsoka’s,” Rey explained. “What I didn’t explain to you was how Ahsoka died; she was murdered.”

 

He glanced at her, his eyes darkening as his hands clenched the steering wheel. “You were there?”

 

Rey nodded. “The First Order Council paid us a visit,” she went on. “We were ripped from our beds in the middle of the night and made to stand in one of the training rooms. Representatives from the Order visited from time to time. They wanted to monitor us, even though Ahsoka never had a seat at the table. She didn’t want one, not after what happened with Vader.”

 

“Anakin.”

 

“Vader.”

 

“His name was Anakin.” 

 

“Agree to disagree,” Rey snapped at his interruption. 

 

She watched Kylo’s throat bob as he swallowed but remained quiet.

 

“The Council didn’t approve of Ahsoka’s methods. They were concerned that her alternative way of thinking would lead to problems. I didn’t understand at the time, but she was staging a revolt. Somehow they found out. They offered her a pardon, if she agreed to change and pledge her fidelity to the Order. She refused. They shot her right there—right in front of us—as a warning.”

 

Kylo reached across the gearshift, his hand heavy where he set it on top of her own. 

 

“Phasma and I were the oldest. They knew Ahsoka had been mentoring us. They didn’t offer us a choice. They just acted. I saw their intention before she did,” Rey shared. With a deep breath, she lifted her shirt and shifted in her seat so he could see the scar. It was a patch of raised skin leftover from where the bullet had pierced her chest. It almost looked like a flower. 

 

“I stepped in front of them. I thought it would buy them some time to run, but it made them stay. While Phasma carried me down to the medic, the others launched an attack. They used whatever they could get their hands on—guns, knives, staffs—and they took them out, one by one. By the time I went back upstairs, all that was left was blood and death.”

 

“It was a valiant effort but it was foolish. Just like I saw the attack coming on Phasma, I saw our future. It would be filled with bloodshed, violence, and even more loss. So I made a deal.”

 

“You joined the First Order,” Kylo surmised.

 

Rey nodded. “I pledged my service as a loyal hand of the table in return for my sisters’ freedom. As long as they agreed to lay down their weapons, they were spared. It was terrifying for them. Living with Ahsoka was all most of them had ever known. Leaving the academy—leaving her—was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” she admitted.

 

“But we found a way to make a life for ourselves with the casino. Phasma always had an eye for strategy and the other girls were well-equipped to read people. It was a profitable solution and with the success of the business, doors opened for us.”

 

“Doors?” Kylo questioned.

 

“The girls like me, who were abducted from their homes, needed a place in the world, one where they weren’t afraid, one where they could be empowered. The casino needed employees so the next time I came across a shipment, I made the girls a deal. If they worked for us for two years, we’d give them lodging and food. At the end of their term, they would be awarded papers and a choice. They could remain in our employment or start out on their own,” Rey informed him.

 

“However, if they chose to remain working for us, they had to follow our rules, which included not sleeping with the guests. A few men argued with Phasma and I on that particular note when we started, but I can be  _ very _ persuasive,” Rey told Kylo.

 

“After that initial hiccup, the business grew steadily and now it’s the most lucrative casino in the United States, with the highest client satisfaction rating,” she finished.

 

“Impressive,” Kylo remarked.

 

Rey shrugged. “It’s Phasma’s baby. I just deliver the girls.”

 

“But the shipments have stopped,” he pointed out. “You destroyed Plutt’s ring.”

 

“Another one will inevitably pop up,” she said with a sigh. “It’s like a hydra. Cut off one head and two more will emerge. Human trafficking is a billion-dollar business. No matter what the politicians on Capitol Hill claim, they aren’t any closer to eradicating it.”

 

“You could,” Kylo replied. 

 

Rey pursed her lips, unsure how to respond when he sounded so confident. 

 

He squeezed her hand. “I’ll help you.” 

 

She swallowed against the burn in her throat, a familiar tightness pinching her chest. Rey brushed it aside. She’d already cried in front of her partner enough. She plucked his hand off her leg, positioning it on the gear shift.

 

“Let’s open this girl up and see how fast she can really go!”

 

Kylo sped down the road while Rey watched the needle on the odometer rise. He was at ease behind the wheel, his grip controlled but not overly firm. His large form was settled back in the driver’s seat as comfortably as if he was lounging on the couch.

 

He took a sharp turn along the coast, the car sliding so that dirt and rocks tumbled over the edge. Rey watched them fall from her window, tracking them until they disappeared into the water. She shook her head, laughing once more.

 

_ Dangerous and thrilling.  _

 

The perfect cocktail for a way into an assassin’s heart. 

 

And no matter how hard she tried to deny it, Kylo Ren had worked his way into her heart.

 

* * *

The open-air market in Naboo was far quieter than the roaring streets of New York City. People meandered through isles of fresh produce, luscious fruits, and an array of potted herbs, perfect for decorating window boxes or small patios.

 

Rey was drawn to the greenery, just as she had been at Varykino. She knelt by a cluster of pink and white camellias and then did the same at the next stand, where the proprietor was selling fresh azaleas.

 

He watched her enjoy the tranquility of the small city. The residents enjoyed a slower life, a life filled with beauty and enjoyment. It was full of light and simple pleasures, unburdened by the sins that plagued Kylo and his partner. If anyone suspected they were tainted by the dark, they didn’t comment.

 

Both he and Rey were dressed plainly, adapting their wardrobes to fit in with whatever country or culture they visited. It helped them  maintain a low profile. With his raven hair and Roman features, he didn’t have a problem, but Rey’s undeniable British lit was uncommon for Naboo.

 

Despite that, the stall vendors seemed delighted by her presence. There was no suspicion, no guarded glances. People here were friendly by nature, one of the reasons why his grandmother had wanted to stay. She’d been kind and generous, like these people, at least that was what he’d been told. He’d never met her. 

 

As he trailed behind Rey, he caught sight of a modest cafe. After their training, a strong shot sounded excellent.

 

“Coffee?” he offered.

 

“Cappuccino,” Rey replied as she bent down to inspect a farmer’s tomatoes.

 

Kylo crossed the street to sate their desire for caffeine. He enjoyed a double shot at the bar while he waited for the barista to prepare Rey’s in a takeaway cup.

 

When he exited the cafe, he found Rey waiting for him at the end of the market.

 

They sat down on a vacant bench, overlooking the area. Rey held her takeaway cup in both hands, the way a child savored their hot cocoa in the winter.

 

“How is it?” he asked.

 

“So much better than Starbucks,” Rey said with a happy sigh. 

 

As she sipped her coffee, he cleared his throat. “I owe you a story,” Kylo began.

 

Rey nodded, turning to give him her full attention.

 

“When my parents sent me away, they didn’t send me to a fancy board school like their so-called friends suggested. They sent me to live with my uncle,” Kylo shared. “They thought he’d be able to get through to me, but all he saw was a lost cause.”

 

Rey’s eyes were boring into him, intense but soft. Her hand slid over his, reassuring Kylo that she was on his side. His brilliant, beautiful partner.

 

“He didn’t see me as his nephew. All he saw when he looked at me was my grandfather. The rumor was that he killed him—his own father, but I didn’t want to believe it,” Kylo told her sternly. He took a deep breath and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I didn’t believe it until he tried to kill me too.”

 

Aside from him, Rey went rigid. “What?”

 

“I was asleep in my room. I woke with a strange feeling as if I was trapped in a nightmare, only it wasn’t a dream. It was real. When I glanced up, I saw my uncle standing over me with his gun aimed at my chest. I grabbed my P30L and fired twice. Before he hit the floor, I was running. I never looked back,” he finished.

 

Rey tightened her grip on his hand. She was the only thing keeping him grounded. Inside, he was a mess of emotion. Chaos warred beneath the surface, rage, and vengeance demanding action, urging him to track his uncle down and end his life.

 

Kylo’s face hardened. Speaking about Luke was never easy. He didn’t talk about that night often, if ever, and hearing Rey’s instant concern was unnerving. She’d known him for weeks yet she immediately sided with him. He wondered if she would remain on his side if she knew the truth about his family.

 

“It was a novice mistake,” Kylo explained. “I should have never assumed I was safe there. My uncle was practically a stranger to me. It was my fault for thinking that something as foolish as family loyalty would mean anything. After all, my own parents cast me out. It was a lesson—one that I learned the hard way. In this life, we’re never safe. We always need to be moving, keeping one step ahead. If we don’t, we die.”

 

He saw her eyes change, the light brown morphing into a bolder bronze shade, speckled with flecks of green. She removed her hand. He immediately regretted his callous response. “Then why track me down? Why mentor me?” she demanded.

 

“You’re not my student. You’re my partner,” he insisted, trying to take her hand. Rey shifted out of his reach, eyes narrowed. “What I said wasn’t about you. I trust you,” he promised. 

 

She didn’t appear convinced. Silently, Rey rose from the bench, wandering off in the opposite direction of his car. Kylo cursed under his breath and went after her. It didn’t take long. His strides were much longer than hers.

 

“Rey.” He snatched her wrist, forcing her to glare up at him. “Listen to me. I’ve never told anyone about that night—not my parents, not the Doc—no one. Just you. You’re the first person I’ve ever trusted. It’s new for me, being able to trust, but I know you feel it too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have told me about Ahsoka or your scar. Don’t be afraid.”

 

“I’m not afraid,” she argued.

 

Kylo studied her face, hearing the lie in the way her voice wavered ever so slightly but needing to see her eyes for confirmation.

 

“I won’t abandon you,” he vowed, locking gazes with her. “It’s you and me.”

 

She stared at him, turning his words over in her mind, as he clung to her. He could feel his desperation leaking through. The part of himself he never let others see, the darkest depths where he was unsure and anxious, began to push forth.

 

He had no experience with relationships. From his earliest days, all Kylo’s relationships had ended in disappointment and self-loathing. It was one of the many reasons why life as a hitman was so appealing. Solitude worked for him. He never had to form any attachments, never had to master the art of small talk—he could simply do his job and get paid.  _ Simple _ .

 

But there was nothing about this situation that was simple.

 

Gambling with his life had never bothered him. This line of work has already cost him his soul. What else was there to lose? Then Rey stole a contract from him and he realized he had one final card to play. He’d set in down in front of her. It was her choice whether she turned it in a winning hand or asked him to fold.

 

“And Chewie,” she finally said.

 

“What?”

 

“Chewie is part of this,” Rey reminded him. “I won’t leave him behind.”

 

The tension left his face. “Chewie too,” he agreed. 

 

“Alright then.”

 

They continued walking through the market, hand in hand and Kylo forgot about the fact he still hadn’t told her his real name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Rey receives a call and the murder babies make the decision to return to New York.   
> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE Thank you to [darkestrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkestrey/pseuds/darkestrey) for creating this playlist for the story: [Sanguis Sanguinem Meum](https://open.spotify.com/user/angus.y-73/playlist/3iU8M75pC9z24L3QzJxPrq?si=JdSsmZl5TTSTqJv87Vimag)
> 
> Kindly pay attention to the tags. With these final chapters, there will be additional tags added for potentially triggering content. Nothing too extreme but I don't want to catch anyone off guard. 
> 
> Thanks to my always-awesome friend, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for beta-ing this chapter.

 

To become proficient in a new skill, the golden rule is to do it a thousand times. And then do it a thousand times more. So that's what Rey did.

 

She trained with Kylo for three months at Varykino, sparring on the patio, shooting various models of firearms, and learning how to shadow him during combat. They disagreed on almost everything. From the placement of her footing to how quickly his rash decision-making was spurred an argument. One of the few things they didn’t fight about was their undeniable connection. 

 

It continued to be a risk but with each day her concern waned. Training gave her something to focus on. The hours were long and Rey went to bed most nights with soreness in her muscles and fresh scrapes on her skin. Despite all that, it was the happiest she'd ever been. 

 

Kylo kept his promise. He taught her what he knew and she upheld her end of their deal by sharing her skill set. Mastering encryption and hacking technology weren't the same as becoming an expert marksman, but her partner eventually caught on. 

 

They continued trading stories for points. Rey learned that the note Kylo had sent to her room on the night they met was handwritten by him. He showed her his calligraphy set and wrote her name out as a demonstration of his skill. She was captivated by the smooth strokes of ink across the paper and amazed such a strong, imposing man could possess such an artistic side.

 

She told him more about her life before joining the First Order, including why she chose to drink Corellian.

 

"It was Han's favorite," Rey said one evening while she was curled up against her partner. "Plutt made sure we always had a bottle of it ready when he came in. He thought it would make Han easier to deal with, but Han was too smart for that. He always saw right through Plutt's tricks. He used to tell me, ‘You can't con a con'."

 

"You really admired him," Kylo observed. 

 

Rey nodded. "He may have been a scoundrel but he was a good man. I don't remember my parents. Han became the father I never had."

 

"He would have disappointed you," Kylo told her softly.

 

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

 

"He left you at Tano's, didn't he?" he questioned. "Did he ever return to check on you?"

 

"No, but—"

 

"Whatever kindness he showed you, it was done either out of guilt or for his own selfish gain. She probably paid him to deliver you to her academy," Kylo insisted. "You said so yourself. He was a smuggler."

 

"You didn't even know him," Rey argued as she pulled away and sat up.

 

"I know his type," he retorted. "They are all the same. You of all people should know that."

 

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

 

"Plutt, Solo, Canady—they are all the same. They only look out for number one."

 

"Han didn't have anything to gain by smuggling me out of there," Rey hissed. 

 

She didn't understand why he was being so cruel. Hadn't he done the same thing? He took a chance on her, followed her half-way around the world to form this partnership—a partnership which was as risky as it was cunning. If Kylo was truly interested in learning how to crack code, he could have hired DJ or another member of the First Order. Instead, he came for her.

 

That left only one alternative.

 

 _Jealousy_. Kylo had already admitted to envying his dog for the attention she gave Chewie. Did the same apply to her adoration for Han? If so, he was being foolish. He should know by now how she felt. Right?

 

Just because she hadn't actually told him...

 

"Hey." Rey caressed his cheek as she leaned towards him. "What's wrong?" 

 

"Nothing," he responded petulantly.

 

He _was_ jealous.

 

"Kylo." She kissed him. "You're my partner. Just because Han—"

 

"Don't," he growled, raising his hands to cradle her face. "Don't say his name. _Please_."

 

"Alright." She nodded.

 

"Just come here." Kylo pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. 

 

He didn't explain why the topic of Han Solo bothered him so much. Her initial assessment that it was jealousy was the most likely, but ever since they arrived in Varykino, Kylo's concern seemed to have lessened. He didn't worry about Rey running off. He'd shown confidence in their relationship. He trusted her. 

 

Rey wondered if it had less to do with jealousy and more to do with the fact that she had referred to Han as a father figure. Kylo was deeply affected by his family situation. Rey avoided bringing it up, not wanting to disturb the comfortable routine they had fallen into. She didn't want to cause him any pain. He was her partner. He protected her, looked after her, maybe even lov—

 

Shaking the thought away, Rey curled up against him, content to fall asleep in his arms. 

 

She decided to stop mentioning Han.

 

* * *

 

Kylo grinned, sidestepping a strike. Rey was getting faster, stronger, and more confident. Her ability to predict his actions was uncanny. He had to concentrate to avoid her attacks. It was the most formidable workout he'd had in years.

 

His partner had developed beyond his expectations. Rey was quick to adapt. She picked up new skills with ease, dedicating herself to them until they were perfected. Kylo recognized her diligence as a result of Tano's academy, but he kept his observations to himself.

 

The time he spent with Rey was precious. Like Chewie, it was an unexpected gift he neither earned nor deserved. Regardless, he intended to keep her for as long as he could.

 

Training together was crucial to building a foundation. From there, they developed muscle memory, nonverbal communication, and plans of attack. However, unlike Chewie, Rey didn't blindly follow him. She challenged him on decisions she didn't agree with and fought him when he refused to change a particular pattern or form.

 

He loved it.

 

There were few things better than seeing her face scrunched up in anger before she launched an attack or watching her muscles tense prior to throwing a knife. Rey was an exquisite predator, as bold and as deadly as him. She was his equal in every way.

 

Being together at his grandparent's estate was perfect. _She_ was perfect.

 

He should have known it couldn't last.

 

It was the shrill ring of Rey's phone which brought about the end of things. Only one person called that number. _Phasma_. And it was solely the casino owner who held the power to draw Rey away from him and their morning sparring session.

 

"Yeah?" she answered, her clipped greeting covering up the fact that she was out of breath.

 

Kylo wiped sweat from his brow with his discarded shirt, watching his partner as a response came from the other line. Rey's lips pressed together in a thin line. By the time she hung up, he knew what had been said.

 

"Time to go back?" he surmised.

 

"Phasma got word that a new shipment is coming into the harbor," Rey confirmed.

 

"Does she know which port it came out of?" Kylo inquired.

 

"No idea," Rey answered. "I have her looking into it."

 

He nodded, noticing Rey’s stance was off. She was distracted. With a smirk, Kylo circled closer to her. "I'll call Cassian after breakfast and we can—"

 

She cut him off, putting him in a wrist lock and kicking his knees out from under him. Face pressed to the ground, he glanced up at her victorious grin.

 

"Nice try," Rey said with a laugh. She released him and took a step back.

 

"I guess you're ready," he baited her as he stood up.

 

Her eyes narrowed. She didn't move. Kylo turned away, plucking his shirt off the ground, convinced she wouldn't bite. Until he heard her approaching.

 

Grabbing her around the waist, he used her momentum to flip her around. She landed with a huff on her back, glaring up at him.

 

"Maybe not," he chuckled.

 

She swept her leg, hitting his ankle with just enough force to cause him to fall next to her.

 

"Guess you're not ready either then," Rey quipped. 

 

He leaned over with a grin. "Guess we'll have to stay here until we train up." Cupping her face in his hands, he captured her lips. Rey melted into him. He was about to suggest taking care of the shipment and then coming back when Chewie appeared.

 

The mastiff licked the sides of both of their faces, ruining the mood instantly. 

 

"Hey boy!" Rey greeted the oversized pup happily.

 

"Traitor," Kylo muttered, as he straightened up and brushed off his pants.

 

Rey just shook her head with a laugh. "Jealous?"

 

" _Always_."

 

They made their way inside and Kylo spotted Threepio standing watch at the kitchen doorway. As they neared, he pretended he was washing the windows. Noting the way Rey rolled her eyes, Kylo considered his housekeeper's latest attempt to be covert another failure.

 

He didn't understand why Cesare was unpleasant towards his partner. Artoo, the groundskeeper, was delighted by Rey's presence. He answered all of her questions about the flora and fauna growing in the gardens, surprised she had such an interest in his work. Kylo suggested Cesare take a hint from his coworker, but the stubborn man continued to act suspicious of Rey.

 

"Breakfast is prepared, Master Ren," Cesare announced.

 

"Thank you, Threepio," Kylo said with a curt nod.

 

"I'm going to go shower," Rey told him, breezing past.

 

He caught her arm, causing her to pause. "Want some company?"

 

Cesare huffed and left the kitchen. Rey smirked. "What I _want_ is for you to call Cassian about a ride back to New York. I have business to take care of." She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him. Kylo smiled against her lips. As she pulled away, Rey added, "Once you arrange that, you're welcome to join me. I'll make sure to be loud for your butler's benefit." She winked.

 

"I like a woman who knows what she wants," he called after her as she sauntered upstairs. Before she disappeared from sight, he was dialing his pilot.

 

* * *

 

Rogue One was the quietest flight Rey had ever been on. Unlike the commercial airliners she normally took between destinations, the private jet was peaceful and relaxing. She could barely hear the engines propelling them through the sky. It was an engineering marvel.

 

An added bonus was the fact the plane distracted her. 

 

Ever since her call with Phasma, Rey felt _off_. She hadn't eaten anything, her stomach uneasy. Rey had never been one to turn down food, especially when someone made it for her. She blamed her nerves for dulling her appetite.

 

Phasma hadn't said anything strange. In fact, her anger at Rey being gone for so long was expected. Her demand that Rey return was also expected. What wasn't expected was Phasma's knowledge of the docks. After Rey struck her agreement with the First Order, Phasma hadn’t been permitted to have a hand in any fieldwork. So how did she become aware of the shipment?

 

Rey ran her fingers across the lip of her glass, going through options. Someone might have let it slip. Phasma knew all the players. They frequented her establishment and they liked to boast. However, sharing trade secrets and details such as the time of a shipment or what ship it was arriving on...well, that wasn't exactly bar talk. So how did Phasma know about the girls? And how could she know those details but not who had ordered the delivery?

 

It didn't add up.

 

"What is it?" Kylo asked.

 

Rey pursed her lips before taking a long sip of her beverage. "Something's been bothering me since Paris. All those contracts—Plutt, Teedo, Ducain, and the Irving Brothers—they were all opened on the same day, as if..." she trailed off, staring into her mug.

 

"As if someone knew about your vendetta," he finished for her.

 

Rey nodded.

 

"Who would know?"

 

"Phasma's the only one still alive," she admitted. "She was the only one at the academy who knew where I came from besides Han and Ahsoka." 

 

She could feel his intense gaze on her, waiting for her to say more. When she didn't, he sighed, "So it's back to work then?"

 

"I need to know, Kylo," Rey confirmed. "I need to be sure."

 

"No," he corrected her. " _We_ need to be sure. You're not alone in this. Not anymore." He reached for her hand. 

 

She held onto him. "Neither are you."

 

* * *

 

Dozens of shipping companies lined the Upper Bay Area, each professing exceptional customer service, on-time delivery, and cargo tracking. They were all closed when Rey and Kylo strolled past. Dressed in all black, he allowed his partner to take the lead.

 

Rey cut through the terminals, quick to signal him when a harbor security guard was close by. Each time, her free hand was positioned over one of her knives. Despite her skill with a gun, Rey preferred her blades for a quick, silent kill.

 

While they shifted through the night shadows, Chewie was curled up back at the Continental, enjoying a full belly courtesy of the room service Rey ordered for him.

 

When they located the correct dock, Rey slipped around the shipping containers, to find the girls.

 

Kylo held back, keeping a look-out. He shared Rey's suspicion about the casino owner and had suggested going directly to the source. Rey refused. She wasn't willing to gamble innocent lives on the chance he was wrong.

 

From his spot roughly one hundred yards away, he watched as she worked the locks off. His apprehension grew, his hands raising his gun, ready to fire the second danger presented itself. 

 

Regardless of the hand life had dealt her, underneath the harsh glares and indifferent glances, Rey cared. She'd been thrown into this life out of a sheer need to survive. It had never been her choice but she found loopholes in the system. His little killer was a threat to the First Order. Where others stood for gold coins and another notch in their belt, Rey stood for something far more valuable.

 

_Hope._

 

Hope was dangerous. It spread faster than poison and the results were far less predictable. When people had hope, they were capable of stepping outside of themselves. Discourse vanished in the wake of a greater enemy, which ultimately bound them together until they grew into an unconquerable force.

 

The First Order had feared Rey when she was a child, terrified she would take up Tano's mantle. Years later, despite her agreement with the council, Rey had grown into the greatest threat the organization had ever faced.

 

And she wasn't even aware of it. 

 

But Phasma was. Kylo was sure of it, which was why his scope was focused solely on the cargo container. 

 

Rey yanked open the doors, her body poised to take defensive measures the instant her actions provided an opening for an incoming attack.

 

None came. 

 

Slowly, one by one, girls of varying ages stumbled out of the metal box, swarming around Rey like lost children reuniting with their mother.

 

Kylo blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

 

He scanned the area, searching for an incoming assault. No one lurked just behind the surrounding containers. There was no unmarked vehicle parked out of range or a sniper lying in wait on the shipping clerk's roof. 

 

It didn't make any sense. This situation held no value for Phasma unless it was a set-up. 

 

Suddenly, movement caught his eye. Kylo shifted to his left to catch a man sneaking out of the shipyards. Aiming for the kneecaps, Kylo prepared to shoot. Then froze. He recognized the man.

 

Mitaka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the murder bae's are back in business...


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works).

 

No matter how many times she went to the harbor, it never got any easier. No amount of gratitude could erase the paleness of their skin or the glossy-look of their eyes. While the girls crowded around her, desperate for fresh air, Rey found herself suffocating under the weight of her past.

 

She was assaulted by memories of the chloroform soaked handkerchief Teedo had shoved into her face when he stole her and the callous, grease-stained hands of Plutt squeezing her arm so tightly it broke. She consoled herself with the fact both men were gone, slaughtered by her own hand. And she would do the same to whoever imprisoned these girls — these girls who could have been  _ her _ , had her circumstances been only slightly different. Rey reminded herself of her mission to bring herself back to the present.

 

She forced herself not to think about the girls she hadn't been able to save. The ones she was able to free already served as both a victory and a burden. Their haunted, fearful glances that found her in the dark when she first opened a container stayed with Rey long after she delivered the girls to their new home.

 

Canto Bight Casino was a brilliant array of light and sound. The contrast to the dismal, dank prison the girls had been sealed in was evident in their wonder-filled eyes.

 

Rey guided them through a side entrance, handing them off to Frey, Phasma's right-hand woman. She handled security for the casino, one of the few people Phasma trusted. Rey knew that trust was born from a common tragedy. Along with Phasma, Frey was the last living member of Scyre. The Eastern European town had been destroyed after several violent military campaigns, resulting in the deaths of its citizens.

 

"Frey." Rey inclined her head towards the young woman.

 

"Look what the cat dragged in," Frey sneered. Her black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, exposing her lean, tan neck and a collection of tribal tattoos leading beneath her uniform. "Took you long enough," she scoffed about the delivery.

 

"I was busy," Rey retorted, matching the girl's tone of disdain.

 

"Phasma said you were training."

 

"You disagree?" Rey questioned, displeased with the unconvinced tone the girl used.

 

"You require improvement," Frey replied. She wasn’t one of Ahsoka’s original girls but she’d been with Phasma for years, learning from the former assassin. Despite her proximity to their network, Frey had never liked Rey. And she made it known. 

 

Rey tilted her head and flashed Frey a smile. "I can still beat you, so I guess that's saying something."

 

"Watch your back, Scavenger," she hissed.

 

"I always do." Rey gave her a mock salute and slipped inside.

 

The constant chimes of slot machines competed against the heckling of table promoters and the live music offered in one of the bars. Canto Bight's main floor was crowded with people succumbing to the casino's call. Rey immediately headed for the elevator bank.

 

She only visited the business when necessary. The overstimulation was enough to send her back to Varykino. She never understood why Phasma had chosen this line of work. Then again, she had never understood Phasma either.

 

The platinum blonde was waiting for Rey in the VIP lounge with a glass of Corellian already sweating on a crimson cocktail napkin aside her.

 

"You caught a tail," the blonde commented when Rey sat down. She kept her gaze firmly on her dirty martini. Rey didn't have to glance behind her to know who Phasma was referring to. He'd been keeping his distance since she entered but he was never out of range.

 

"He's not a tail. He's my partner," she returned. 

 

Phasma stiffened. Pursuing her lips, she drummed her manicured nails against the countertop for a moment, then signaled her guards to stand down.

 

"Probably safer that way," Rey remarked offhandedly. She took a long sip of her drink as Phasma watched her expectantly. "For them," Rey clarified.

 

There was a pause and then Phasma cleared her throat. "I heard Netal caught a knife in the chest and a bullet to the head," she commented. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Rey?"

 

"What's it to you?"

 

The casino owner shrugged. "Call it curiosity."

 

"She put two slugs in my back. Fair is fair," Rey responded smoothly.

 

"I'll cheers to that." Phasma clinked her glass against Rey's before taking a long draw of her martini.

 

Rey watched Kylo in the mirror along the back bar. To anyone else, he appeared to be a bored man, waiting on someone, but to a trained killer like her, she knew better. His Heckler was holstered under his arm, a spare tucked into his belt along the curve of his back. One wrong move and the casino would be lit up with gunfire.

 

Phasma was aware of the First Order enforcer too. She'd begun to drum her nails along the bar counter once more, a nervous tick she'd never manage to break.

 

"How's business?" Rey asked conversationally.

 

"Slow," Phasma answered.

 

"The floor is busy."

 

"It's Saturday," Phasma pointed out. "We're barely breaking even."

 

Rey's brow creased. While Canto Bight wasn't as secure as the Continental, it was a popular venue among the First Order and the New York City elite. A downturn in business could only mean one thing.

 

"What did you do?" she inquired, keeping her voice even. 

 

"I petitioned the board," Phasma responded, finishing her drink.

 

"You want to be back in the field?" Rey surmised. 

 

"Don't worry, sister," Phasma spat the endearment as if it had a sour taste. "My request was denied. You're still the only Tano girl allowed to roam the night."

 

"I didn't ask for this, Gwen," Rey snapped irritably.

 

"Don't be coy," Phasma hissed. "Of course, you did. You were her favorite." There was a hint of jealousy in her tone, which was wholly unlike the cold blonde. 

 

"Do you even hear yourself?" Rey snarled. "She was harder on me than anyone else. She kept me in that tank for four minutes. I nearly drowned!" 

 

"She was grooming you," Phasma announced. "I knew it. I knew it from the moment that smuggler brought you to the door." Rey glared at the blonde in wanting but Phasma didn't stop. "I should have killed you where you slept that very night."

 

"Why didn't you?" Rey challenged, her hand itching to grab one of her blades.

 

"Ahsoka would have known it was me," she said with a sigh.

 

"So why not let me bleed to death when the First Order shot me?"

 

"The other girls would have never followed me if I let you die, and I needed them for this," she gestured to the casino.

 

Phasma was playing the long game, waiting until she had cornered her target with no way out.

 

Her stomach lurched unpleasantly and Rey eyed her rocks glass. Phasma was cunning, a true strategist but the blonde wouldn't poison her  while she was on casino property, would she? It was a risky move, considering their standing contract with the First Order.

 

Unless the contract had been amended.

 

Rey pushed the glass away from her. "Consider our agreement terminated." Phasma stared but her face gave nothing away. Rey stood and gave her one final glance. "Be seeing you, Gwen."

 

She could feel the blonde's icy blue state follow her out of the bar to the elevators. Rey never looked back.

 

Kylo fell into step with her. He didn't speak until the door slid closed. "Did you get your answer?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And?"

 

"You know that phrase, keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" she asked. He nodded. "Phasma and I aren't friends."

 

"I see," he replied calmly. "What do you want to do?"

 

"Nothing." 

 

Kylo stared at her, perplexed.

 

"I can't fight an enemy I don't know," Rey clarified. "I need more information." The doors opened with a chime and her gaze settled on a slim woman with black eyes and striking green hair. "And I know just who can give it to me."

 

"I'll order us some whiskey," Kylo told her.

 

She started to walk away, when he grabbed her hand, yanking her back into the elevator. Rey glanced up at him while the doors slid shut, hiding them from the casino floor's view. Her partner tilted her chin up, running the pad of his thumb across her jawline.

 

"Happy hunting, sweetheart." He placed a chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. When the elevator doors opened again, Rey strolled out, eyes full of darkness. Only one person noticed the hint of flush to her cheeks. And he was headed towards the bar.

 

* * *

Kylo studied the patterns of people flocking to Canto Bight. The types of individuals who frequented casinos were predictable, boring. It would be all too easy to disrupt their routine in a blaze of gunfire and pitter-patter of lead on the brilliant red carpet. He was fantasizing about the chaos he could inject when someone sat down aside him. 

 

"Ren."

 

"Mitaka," he greeted the man calmly. "I see you finally took my advice."

 

"Didn't expect to see you at the docks," the other hitman remarked.

 

"Didn't expect to see you in the States," Kylo returned.

 

"Touché."

 

Kylo finished his first round of Corellian. While the bartender poured him another, he turned to face Mitaka. "Your choice for a career change is surprising," he commented. "Which member of the council ordered those girls?"

 

"I don't know what you mean, Ren."

 

"Sure you don't," Kylo said with a smirk. 

 

He paused for a moment, sparing a glance across the floor to where Rey was still speaking to a girl with vibrant green hair. Then, just as Mitaka raised his glass of vodka, Kylo grabbed the back of his head and slammed it down against the countertop. Mitaka swore, the bartender froze, and the other patrons all gasped, muttering in surprise and fear. 

 

"Nothing to see here," Kylo announced, hooking his arm around Mitaka. He dragged the man out of the bar and down a hallway towards event rooms. He kicked open the first door he came across, pleased to find it unoccupied.

 

Tossing Mitaka into an available chair, Kylo leaned back against the door, staring the man down. "Tell me what you know." 

 

The man was hunched over in his seat, clutching his broken nose. Blood coated his hands and he was gasping for breath. "Mitaka, I'm not a patient man," Kylo warned.

 

"Hux," he wheezed.

 

"Brendol?" Kylo questioned.

 

"No, his son. Armitage Hux."

 

Kylo's eyes narrowed. "Why? Hux deals in arms, not girls."

 

Mitaka attempted to get up, but Kylo stepped in front of him and shoved him down with one hand. "Tell me."

 

"Th-the girl," Mitaka stuttered. "He wanted the girl. That was the deal."

 

"Deal? What deal?"

 

"With Phasma. She wanted the Scavenger gone and Hux wanted his father's seat at the table," Mitaka explained.

 

"So where did you come in?"

 

"I opened the contracts on the girl's hit list so we could mimic her fighting style. Originally, Phasma was going to poison Brendol, but Hux realized that if his father died under suspicious circumstances, he'd never sit among the council."

 

"A frame job?" Kylo concluded.

 

Mitaka nodded. "The council would have no choice but to order her incommunicado and open a contract against her."

 

"Hux wants them to do his dirty work for him," Kylo grumbled. "When is the hit going down?"

 

Mitaka shook his head frantically. "I don't know. They never—"

 

Kylo struck him. "Don't lie to me."

 

"I swear! They never told me! They just wanted me to get her here!"

 

Kylo reared back. He had to find Rey.

 

_ Now. _

 

Throwing the door open, he was met with Phasma who was flanked by her personal security team.

 

"Mr. Ren," she greeted him with a cool grin. 

 

"Gwen." He gave her a curt nod, smirking when he caught her flinch. "Sorry about the mess," he added, gesturing to Mitaka. "You can put it on my tab."

 

"You'd be better off avoiding her," Phasma cautioned him. 

 

"So would you," he returned. 

 

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "That girl is like poison. Her looks draw you in. She tastes sweet and leaves you wanting more. You'll still be craving her when you take your last breath."

 

Kylo chuckled darkly. "My father told me the only thing worth dying for was a woman."

 

"Your father was a fool," she scoffed.

 

"He was," Kylo agreed. "But he was a fool who was right."

 

Phasma arched a brow at him. When he didn't move to leave, she sighed and pointed him in the direction of the slot machines. "She's on the floor talking to one of my girls."

 

"Thank you," he said, as he began to walk away. He heard the footsteps of the guards converging around Mitaka and smirked. Pivoting around, Kylo caught Phasma's icy glare. "If you see Hux, tell him hello for me, would you?"

 

Her blue eyes widened.

 

Kylo stalked toward the casino floor, not turning back even as he heard the staccato shots fired behind him.

 

_ One down. Two more to go. _

 

* * *

Mashra had been at Ahsoka's academy when Rey was dropped off. The night the First Order attacked, she'd been the one to rally the others while Phasma dragged Rey's unconscious body to the medic. Despite her eccentric choice of hair color, she was kind-hearted, rare for someone with her history.

 

"Rey." She welcomed her with a hug. "It's been too long."

 

"How are y—" Rey's words fell silent when her gaze landed on a darkening bruise along Mashra's neck. "What happened?" she demanded, brushing aside her green hair to get a better look.

 

"It's nothing," Mashra said quickly, taking a step back.

 

Rey's eyes narrowed and she swept the floor for a sign of Phasma or Frey. The only person she recognized was Kylo, seated at the bar with two glasses of whiskey, just as he had promised.

 

"It's not nothing!" she hissed. "This wasn't part of the agreement. Who hit you?"

 

"Hux."

 

Rey had never met Brendol's illegitimate son, but from all accounts, she heard of him, he was an ambitious strategist. He wasn't content to wait for the day his father passed his seat on the council over.

 

Glancing up, she searched for Phasma once more. Was Armitage Hux who she was meeting with? 

 

"When was he here?" Rey inquired.

 

"Last night," Mashra informed her. "And the time before that was about a week ago. He's been showing up on and off to see Phasma and that man." She pointed to a gentleman who'd taken a seat next to Kylo at the bar.

 

Rey straightened up, her hand already going for her holster. 

 

"You can't," Mashra warned, grabbing onto Rey's arm with both hands. "Not here." She dragged Rey behind a bank of slot machines. "Stand right here," she instructed. "It's a blind spot for the cameras."

 

While Rey appreciated the privacy the location permitted them, she was uneasy about the fact she could no longer see Kylo. Her stomach continued to twist and she remembered Phasma's attitude upstairs.

 

"Is there a washroom nearby?"

 

Mashra led her to the nearest one, which, due to state regulations, wasn't monitored by video surveillance.

 

"Tell me everything," Rey demanded, once she'd secured the room.

 

The moment Mashra launched into her explanation, Rey felt the floor shift. She couldn't restrain herself from ducking into the nearest stall and retching.

 

"Rey!"

 

Gripping hold of the porcelain bowl, Rey winced as another round hit her.

 

After a few minutes, her nausea passed and she was able to sit back on her heels. Eventually, she stood up, thankful when the floor didn't sway.

 

"Here," Mashra thrust a wad of tissues in her face. "Are you alright?"

 

"I'm fine," she grumbled, taking the tissues from Mashra. While she cleaned herself up, her friend stood by, a worried expression etched on her face. "I think Phasma laced my drink," Rey divulged.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

Rey nodded. She ducked her head down to rinse out her mouth in the sink. "Coward," she spat.

 

"Poison isn't Phasma's style. She's a warrior," Mashra reminded Rey. 

 

"If she's teamed up with Hux, she's no longer our sister," Rey pointed out. "There's no telling what she would or wouldn't do."

 

They exited the bathroom to the sounds of shots firing.

 

Suddenly, Kylo was charging toward them. Rey retrieved a knife, ready to take out anyone who may be tailing him.

 

"We need to leave," he declared. He was already reaching for his gun when Rey heard shouts coming from across the room. A group of armed men were making their way through the crowd after Kylo.

 

Next to Rey, fear flickered across Mashra's face, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. "This way."

 

She guided them through the maze of slot machines, past the table games, and into a service entrance. Rey kept her hands on her knives, barely a full step behind her friend while Kylo took up the rear, his gun ready to fire.

 

"Here," Mashra opened a door that led out of the casino into a side alley. "Follow this to the street and keep heading north. With any luck, you'll hit the Continental before they find you."

 

"Thank you," Kylo told her, bowing his head as he passed by her.

 

Rey paused in the doorway. "Come with us," she suggested. "You aren't safe here. I can find you—"

 

"Rey," Mashra cut her off. "You saved my life. Allow me to return the favor."

 

"But—" she began to protest.

 

Kylo tossed his backup gun to Mashra. When she spoke again, her words were directed to him. "I'll hold them off as long as I can. Keep her safe."

 

"You have my word," he promised.

 

"Be seeing you," Mashra told her with a smile.

 

Then she shoved Rey out the door and into Kylo's arms.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 4 chapters left...  
> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the reveals keep coming...
> 
> Thanks to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for all her help!

 

Kylo glared at everyone as he escorted Rey away from Canto Bight. His hands were firm where they gripped her arms and his jaw set in determination. She didn't utter a single word while they weaved through the crowded New York streets by Kylo, and didn't stop moving until they had their feet on Continental grounds.

 

"Good evening, Mr. Ren. Ms. Niima," the concierge greeted them.

 

"Maz," Rey responded quietly.

 

He hated how detached her voice sounded. Anger would have been preferable. His rage had fueled him for years. In the wake of his family's betrayal, it was all he had—his wrath and his gun.

 

Phasma's double-cross should have sent Rey into attack mode, with a flurry of silver blades and lead bullets. Instead, his lethal partner was silent, merely going through the motions. She was pale and despondent, as if her fire had been extinguished.

 

"We should talk strategy," Kylo told her, as they rode the elevator up to their floor. "With Mitaka dead, they will need to accelerate their plans. We could go to the Council to alert them, share what we know. It's a risk but it would prevent Hux and Phasma from—"

 

" _No_."

 

His brow furrowed as he gazed at her. "What?"

 

"I said no," Rey repeated more forcefully. "The First Order is the root of this problem. It was their decision to appoint Brendol. It was their choice to kill Ahsoka. And it was their mistake letting me live. I'm going to take them out." She stared up at him, an intensity unlike any he'd seen before burning in her eyes. "All of them."

 

Kylo stared at Rey. Her complexion was still fairer than normal and he didn't like the way she seemed to sway ever so slightly when the elevator shifted, but he couldn't deny the fierceness of her tone or the vengeful tint in her hazel eyes.

 

"How do you want to do this?"

 

She smiled, the gesture so perfectly wicked that he felt himself heating up. "What's the first rule of engaging multiple attackers?"

 

"Work your way through the targets from the most challenging to the easiest," he replied simply.

 

Her grin widened. "Exactly."

 

The elevator chimed, announcing their floor. They strolled toward their room, wordlessly. The second he unlocked the door, Chewie was on Rey. 

 

 _Traitor_ , he thought, though his normal bitterness abated when he saw how pleased Rey was. 

 

She knelt down to scratch the mastiff behind his ears. The giant dog affectionately nuzzled closer to her, happily seeking more attention.

 

"Chewie, sit," Kylo ordered.

 

Rey gave him a final pat, before taking a seat on the couch. Ignoring his master, Chewie followed close behind, until she settled, then he sat on her feet. 

 

Annoyed, Kylo sunk into the chair across from his partner. "So much for man's best friend," he muttered.

 

She rolled her eyes, uninterested in his sullen attitude. "Hux has been meeting with Phasma regularly at Canto Bight," Rey shared. She explained the details of what Mashra told her and how Phasma had acted in the VIP lounge. Kylo added his own experience with the casino owners, as well as his conversation with Mitaka. 

 

"They've been setting this up for a while," he explained. "We can't underestimate them. Hux is an arrogant bastard but he's an arrogant bastard with connections."

 

"Phasma too," Rey agreed. "Which is why we let them carry out their plan...for now."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Hux wants his father's seat at the table, right?" she reminded Kylo. He nodded. "By taking Brendol out of the equation, he frees up a seat at the table but he also makes a name for himself with the council. It proves he's cunning enough to be there and solidifies his position."

 

"How does that help us?"

 

"If he pins his father's demise on anyone else, he will appear weak to the council and they will engage in whatever shadow dealings they have to, in order to force him out," Rey clarified.

 

"They've never dismissed a family from the council before," Kylo argued.

 

"No?" she arched a brow. "What about Vader?" 

 

Kylo snapped his mouth shut. His little killer certainly knew her history. 

 

"Hux's sole mission is to have a seat on the council. He knows we are on to him. He can't fall back on any risky attempts, not with his entire future on the line. He'll deal with Brendol himself or at the very least have Phasma do it and claim responsibly," Rey said with confidence.

 

"There will be a transition of the seat, a ceremony where the First Order elite will gather to pay homage to Brendol and then swear in Hux. That is when we strike," she suggested.

 

"That event will be filled with the top assassins on the First Order's payroll," Kylo pointed out, skeptically. "I'm good, sweetheart, but the odds of us walking out of there—."

 

"Never tell me the odds," she parroted his father's favorite line.

 

Kylo swallowed and took in a breath to steady himself. Han would have been proud of the woman Rey became. Seeing her plotting revenge for her fallen mentor and sister was a thing of beauty. She was covering all her bases, unfazed by his criticism.

 

She launched into her plan, listing out the top five most likely venues for the event and detailing how each location was set-up. 

 

Chewie remained by her side the entire time she spoke. He barely moved an inch, not even to yawn, as if he was on high-alert. Had they been discussing a typical job, Kylo might have questioned his dog's attentiveness but he was far too busy listening to Rey to give it a second thought. 

 

They strategized late into the evening. When Kylo noticed her head dropping, he dragged Rey to bed. After checking the locks one final time, he fell asleep wrapped around her.

 

* * *

 

Rey's eyes opened with a start.

 

As silently as possible, she scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over Chewie in her haste. Flinging the toilet seat up, she bent over and retched. 

 

She inhaled deeply, leaning back on her heels. Her stomach roiled violently and she got sick again. What the hell was happening? If Phasma had poisoned her, and she hadn't eliminated it from her system earlier, the toxin would have killed her by now.

 

Chewie entered the bathroom and sat by her side, his wide eyes boring into her while he stood guard. 

 

Rey waited for several minutes to make sure her stomach was settled before she stood. She went to the sink, rinsing out her mouth and brushing her teeth with vigor. When she finished, she tossed the toothbrush in the trash and checked the time.

 

 _5am_. 

 

It was still dark outside. She chewed on her lower lip, knowing it wasn't safe off-premise. But if her sickness wasn't due to poisoning, Rey needed to know and she needed to know now. Grabbing her holster and her Glock 19, Rey prepared to leave.

 

Chewie remained next to her, like a four-legged shadow as she made her way around the room. Before she left, Rey paused by the bedside. Kylo was out, exhausted from the revelations yesterday brought them. She wasn't sure if he could handle another one.

 

"I love you," she whispered against his forehead before leaning down to plant a kiss there. 

 

Softly, she snuck out, taking the staircase to avoid the cameras. Chewie's collar jingled with each step he took. The sound soothed Rey, a reminder of the protector she had tagging along. At least she wasn't alone.

 

Pushing open the exit door, she stepped out into the early morning darkness. There was a Walgreens one block over. It was a quick in and out trip. She'd be back at the Continental in less than fifteen minutes. There was no reason to worry. 

 

The pharmacy was quiet with only the generic beats of some overplayed pop song coming from the sound system. A tired employee offered her a half-smile as she entered, not even raising an eye when Chewie trotted in along with her. 

 

Rey maneuvered through the aisles until she came upon the one offering ‘Family Planning' products. At the end of the row sat a selection of pink and white-colored boxes, all claiming to offer the same thing—timely, accurate results. 

 

Her hand shook as she reached for a tri-pack. She had no intentions of coming back here. 

 

Debating whether or not to take the tests at the pharmacy or return to the Continental, Rey turned to leave. She'd been so focused on her purchase that she didn't notice the woman who was cutting through the aisle. Their shoulders slammed into one another.

 

"I'm sorry," Rey apologized, reaching out to steady her.

 

"Oh, it's fine," the petite woman assured her. 

 

She wore her hair back in a tight bun, streaks of gray decorating where her brown tresses were rolled along the sides to enhance the regal style. The woman wore a purplish-gray pantsuit with a designer poncho draped over herself.

 

"You must be excited," she commented to Rey, gesturing to the box.

 

Rey swallowed thickly. "Oh...um," she trailed off, unsure how to answer.

 

"Don't worry, dear," the woman told her, reaching over to pat her on the arm. "It's normal to be nervous. When I found out I was pregnant—many, many years ago—I was terrified. I was only twenty with my entire career ahead of me and the last thing I wanted to do was take care of a screaming infant. I mean, that's what my husband was for," she chuckled to herself. 

 

Rey shifted on her heels. Small talk always made her uncomfortable. She never knew what to say in situations such as this one. It was as though she could relate. Kylo and her weren't married. They'd never even discussed the idea. It was as unheard of as two rival assassins partnering up.

 

"Everything changed the moment the doctor put that baby in my arms," the woman continued. "Suddenly, nothing in my life seemed quite as important as that precious little one. He became my whole world. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him." She squeezed Rey's arm where she was still holding on. "The same will happen for you."

 

"How?" Rey found herself asking. "The timing is terrible and I never had—" She caught herself before she could admit to her orphan status. "I don't know what to do."

 

The woman smiled kindly at her. "Is the father in the picture?" Rey nodded. "And you love him?" She nodded again. "Then you have everything you need," the woman promised.

 

Rey thought about Kylo's face when he offered to be her partner. She remembered how he gave her a transfusion to save her life and how he stayed by her side all night until she woke. She recalled how diligent he'd been about her training, possessing a patience she hadn't expected. He'd once told her that she was full of surprises. The truth of the matter was that he was too.

 

If the test came back positive, Rey wasn't sure what it would mean for them. Their relationship was in no way normal. A child born of their union wouldn't be normal either. Rey envisioned a girl with Kylo's raven hair and her hazel eyes, dotted with freckles along her pale skin. She was beautiful.

 

The image pinched her throat and burned her eyes. Rey coughed in an attempt to hide her emotional reaction.

 

She couldn't be thinking of that right now. Not when every hitman in New York was about to come for them.

 

"Oh," the woman in the pantsuit cried, noticing Chewie. "I adore dogs! Mastiffs are such a wonderful breed. My son has one. They are fiercely loyal."

 

Chewie allowed the woman to lean over and pet him, which Rey took as a good sign. If the woman meant her any harm, she was confident the dog would have sensed it.

 

"I won't keep you," the woman said as she straightened up. "Good luck with everything."

 

"Thank you," Rey replied and she meant it.

 

She left the pharmacy, still scared but comforted by the hope that no matter the outcome of the tests she wouldn't alone. 

 

* * *

 

The second he woke up, Kylo knew something was wrong. Grabbing his gun, he sat up, aiming it at the silhouette seated across from him.

 

"Rey?"

 

"Hi," she greeted him weakly.

 

He instantly dropped his gun, rushing to her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

 

"Kylo." Her voice cracked as she pressed a small piece of plastic into his hands.

 

His lungs deflated and his chest constricted. In the dim light of dawn, his vision swam. When the item came back into focus, he felt his entire world shatter. 

 

He couldn't even get the words out. "Y-you're—"

 

"Pregnant."

 

The test clattered to the floor as he swept her up in his arms. As he held onto Rey, he felt the broken pieces of his world sew themselves back together, creating a future for them. For all of them. _Together_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favorite chapter of this story for about a dozen different reasons. I'm just so happy I finally get to share it with you all! 
> 
> And now onto fiercely protective 'dad' Kylo:  
> 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) THANK YOU for all your help. She didn't beta only 1 chapter this weekend. She beta'd the final 3 like a BOSS!!!!

 

He couldn’t stop staring at her while she slept. Rey. Rey, his partner. Rey, who was pregnant with _his_ child. Rey, who he’d take on the entire First Order for.

 

And what they had planned wasn’t too far off the mark.

 

They were going to go after the council together. Their strategy needed to be re-evaluated because Kylo wouldn’t allow Rey anywhere near them. Not now.

 

Chewie seemed to be on the same page, keeping close to her like a second skin. Suddenly, his companion’s devotion to his partner made sense. The mastiff could sense the change in her, a change Kylo had caused but hadn’t been aware of until she thrust that flimsy piece of plastic into his shaking hands.

 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Seeing those twin lines altered their plans. 

 

And his.

 

He’d been planning to tell her for some time now. His feelings remained unchanged in the months they spent together. Ever since she’d agreed to go with him to Italy, Kylo knew he had to tell her the truth. The sole reason he hadn’t yet was because he hadn’t been honest about his father.

 

Revealing his connection to Han Solo would be the first time in over a decade that he allowed someone to learn his true name. Kylo hadn’t used his birth name since he was cast out. He wasn’t sure how he would feel hearing Rey say it, but he was sure she’d be upset with him for concealing his identity from her.

 

Especially now.

 

She’d need time which was something they didn’t have. The clock was against them. Kylo needed to come up with a new plan—one to protect Rey and their child.

 

His first order of business was getting them out of the country. Slipping out of bed, he grabbed his phone and dialed Cassian.

 

“Andor,” his contact answered.

 

“We need to meet,” Kylo informed him.

 

“Voyager on William and John. Fifteen minutes?”

 

“I’ll see you then,” Kylo confirmed.

 

He ended the call, his eyes already seeking out Rey’s form in the dark of their room.

 

The coffee shop was barely more than a five-minute walk but the idea of leaving her caused him to bristle with apprehension. The Continental was the safest place for her. After Bazine’s failed attempt to murder him, Calrissian took extensive measures to ensure a violation of the hotel’s rules would never happen again. The manager’s reassurances did little to quell Kylo’s fear.

 

He’d never experienced true terror until the night he almost lost Rey. The potential of losing both her and their child was crippling. It made him jittery and impulsive. For a second, Kylo considered calling Cassian back and insisting they meet on Continental grounds.

 

_No._

 

Any extra attention on Rey would only serve to promote suspicion. They needed to keep her condition a secret, for her sake and their baby’s.

 

“Guard,” Kylo ordered Chewie.

 

The dog watched him lean over his partner to deposit a kiss on her temple. 

 

“I love you,” he told Rey.

 

She didn’t respond, sound asleep with her hair fanned out along the crisp white pillow. Kylo brushed an errant strand out of her face. He stood over her, watching her chest rise in fall in a soft, fluid motion before his eyes lowered to her flat stomach.

 

 _They_ were what he was fighting for. They gave him a purpose. He would do anything he needed to keep them safe, even if it meant leaving them, if only for a short time. 

 

With one final glance, Kylo went to meet up with Captain Andor.

 

* * *

 

Rey woke up alone in bed. Her hand slid across the mattress to the space where Kylo had been, finding it cold. Her brow furrowed as she blinked away her drowsiness. She shifted to glance around the room, but it was empty. 

 

Upon hearing her move, Chewie immediately sat up so he could see her. His tail beat wildly against the floor.

 

“Hey, boy,” she greeted him, reaching over to scratch behind his ears.

 

Rey felt her stomach lurch but for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, she was convinced it had nothing to do with her pregnancy. What reason did Kylo have for leaving her here, especially after what she told him?

 

As if sensing her unease, he pressed his muzzle closer, resting his head on the edge of the mattress.

 

“Do you have to go out?” Rey asked with a yawn.

 

Chewie stood and obediently waited while she climbed out of bed to get dressed. When Rey retrieved her knife holster, she found a note wedged between the top blade and the holder.

 

_R,_

_Went to meet Cassian. Be back soon._

_-K_

 

The words were scrawled in hasty black ink as if he’d been in a rush. She smiled to herself, relief coursing through her veins. Her nervous stomach settled. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers over the paper.

 

He was coming back to her.

 

To _them_.

 

She quickly secured her holsters—one for her knives and one for her gun—before unlocking the hotel door and exiting with Chewie in tow.

 

Rey strolled up to the concierge’s desk. “Maz.”

 

“Morning, Miss Niima.” The petite woman peered up at her behind her thick lenses. 

 

“Is there somewhere within the grounds I can walk Chewie?” she inquired.

 

“I can walk him for you,” Maz offered. “If you would like to take a seat in the lounge, I will bring him back shortly.”

 

“Thank you.” Rey moved to leave and Chewie stayed on her heels. “No, go with Maz,” and instructed the mastiff. 

 

The dog stared at her as if he didn’t understand. Rey knew he did. With a sigh, she retrieved a leash neither Kylo nor her had ever needed to use. She clipped it onto his collar and gave the handle to Maz.

 

Chewie whined for a moment, but with a determined tug from Maz, eventually left the lobby with the concierge.

 

Rey sat down in one of the large leather chairs in the lounge, idly flipping through a recent edition of Guns & Ammo magazine. She was reading the Gun Room column when another guest settled into the chair next to her.

 

“Good morning. Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice acknowledged.

 

Rey glanced up to find the woman from the pharmacy smiling at her. Her gut twisted uneasily. She had assumed the woman was a civilian. Rey didn’t recognize her and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. What she was certain of was the danger this new player presented to their plans and their unborn child.

 

“What do you want?” Rey asked coolly, calculating how to proceed.

 

“Before you do that,” the woman advised, catching the way Rey’s hand slid across her thigh toward her knives. “Remember that you are on Continental ground and any violation of the rules will end in a termination of their services, which you most certainly need.”

 

Rey’s eyes narrowed. “You have ten seconds to explain.”

 

The woman’s lips twitched in amusement but she gave a slight nod. “I’m not here to hurt you. On the contrary, in fact, I’m here to offer you an out. For you and your child.”

 

There was a flash of metal and then Rey was hovering over the woman, her blade pressed against the unnamed threat’s throat. “I suggest you be very careful selecting your next words. They may be your last.”

 

“I can see why Han took a liking to you,” the woman commented with a chuckle. 

 

“Excuse me?” Rey faltered, withdrawing her knife.

 

“My husband, Han,” she clarified. “He always spoke very highly of you, Rey.”

 

“You know my name?”

 

“I know more than that,” the woman stated calmly. “Ah, thank you, Maz.”

 

Rey sheathed her knife as the concierge brought Chewie over. 

 

“Will there be anything else, Miss Niima?” Maz questioned.

 

“No.”

 

“General.” She gave a curt nod to the woman in the purple suit and then returned to her desk in the lobby.

 

“General?” Rey furrowed her brow. “You’re Leia Organa, the Resistance leader?”

 

“You seem surprised.” The General smirked. 

 

Rey reclaimed her chair, Chewie laying at her feet. “Entering the belly of the beast? That’s ballsy.”

 

“I’ve done worse,” Leia responded with another chuckle. “Of course, I was younger then.”

 

“So what do you want?” Rey asked.

 

“To protect my family,” Leia replied smoothly.

 

“I’m grateful for what Han did but you don’t owe me anything,” Rey dismissed her offer. 

 

“I wasn’t referring to Han,” the General corrected. “I was talking about my future grandchild.”

 

“Excuse me?” Rey felt her stomach churn in anticipation. She didn’t like the way Leia was staring at her.

 

“Your partner, Kylo Ren,” the older woman rolled her eyes as she spoke his name. “Before he was a First Order enforcer, he was my son, Ben Solo.”

 

* * *

 

Kylo impatiently drummed his fingers along his thigh, waiting for the elevator. His meeting with Cassian ran longer than he expected. He was anxious to return to Rey. 

 

The instant the doors opened on their floor, he was surging forward. He needed to make sure she was alright. That they were alright.

 

“Rey, sweetheart, I spoke—” His words fell away as he took in the weathered face of his mother. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled.

 

“Kylo.” Rey appeared in the bathroom doorway, a washcloth clutched in her hand and her face flushed.

 

“Rey, go back inside and shut the door,” he directed her. He reached into his jacket, withdrawing his gun, eyes narrowing at the smug grin on his mother’s face. “I’ll deal with this.”

 

“I invited her.”

 

He snapped his gaze to Rey. “What?”

 

“She offered to help us,” his partner explained. 

 

Kylo chuckled darkly. “Of course, she did. She’d lie to get whatever she wanted.”

 

“She’s not the only one,” Rey muttered.

 

He stared at her, noting the way her face was soured with disappointment. _She knew_. 

 

“Rey—”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “I told you how much he meant to me. I told you what I did and you...you lied to me. This entire time, you’ve been lying to me!”

 

Her face was red, a slight sheen of sweat highlighting her brow as her voice raised in anger. He had broken the precious, rare gift she’d given him—her trust.

 

“Rey, I was going to—”

 

“But you didn’t,” she retorted. “I told you _everything_. How I got here, about the academy, about what those monsters did to me...” Her hands balled up into fists at her side and her body shook from her barely contained rage. “You asked me to let you in, to trust you and like a fool, I did.”

 

Kylo rushed to her side, reaching for her. She shied away as a cry escaped her lips. Chewie growled, baring his teeth as he inserted himself between them. 

 

Rey shuffled backward into the bathroom. Kylo’s once-loyal companion went with her. She closed the door behind the mastiff and locked it, effectively shutting Kylo out.

 

He felt the breath leave his lungs as if he’d been shot in the back. What was happening? When had everything gone so wrong? All his careful plans were unraveling faster than he could fix them. And his girl—his beautiful, deadly, little killer—was glaring at him in a way that cut him to his core. The pain she felt, he’d done that to her.

 

“Ben.”

 

“Don’t. Call. Me. That,” he spat at Leia, not tearing his gaze away from his partner. 

 

“Give her time. She has a lot on her mind,” his mother suggested.

 

“No thanks to you,” he replied bitterly. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

 

“I’m protecting my family,” Leia said with levelheaded determination.

 

“I’m not your family. You made sure of that when sent me to die at the hands of your twin,” he snarled.

 

His mother’s mouth set in a firm line. Leia closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before she addressed him. “You know the First Order rules, as well as I. Every marker must be paid.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“The Resistance is older than you think. We’ve been around since your grandfather, Anakin, was an enforcer. Even back then the council was a problem, one that Luke, Han, and I wanted to put an end to,” she revealed.

 

Kylo sat by the bathroom door, leaning his back against the thick wood barrier as he listened to his mother. 

 

“Luke went undercover to learn more about the council. We hoped to find their weakness and exploit it, but in our haste to get close to the high ranking members, Luke made a deal with Sheev Palpatine.”

 

“The marker,” Kylo surmised.

 

Leia nodded. “Palpatine suspected Luke from the beginning. As a test for the other council members, he ordered Luke to kill you. Your uncle tried to make it look convincing and we were prepared to take you into hiding but—”

 

“I woke up,” Kylo finished for her.

 

“When Luke couldn’t fulfill his marker, they placed a contract on him. We had no choice. He went into hiding in your place and you went down the same dark path as your grandfather,” his mother explained.

 

“And Rey?” Kylo asked.

 

“Ahsoka was part of our network. She tried to help us reach your grandfather before his passing. After he died, she dedicated herself to training a new generation, one who wouldn’t need the First Order. Your father was meant to send Rey to a foster family in Connecticut, give her back her life, but when he saw her potential, well...” Leia trailed off, smiling to herself. “He saw a lot of himself in her. He thought she would join our cause. Ahsoka was grooming Rey to take her place one day.”

 

“So you manipulated her just like you manipulated me?”

 

“I saved you both,” Leia protested. “And I’m prepared to do it again.”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” he informed her, standing up. “I’ve already taken care of things. Rey is flying out on Rogue One tonight.”

 

“You don’t think Brendol’s son has already considered that?” his mother questioned skeptically. 

 

“Cassian and his crew are the best in the business. They won’t let anything happen to her,” he insisted.

 

“They can’t protect her from a missile,” Leia argued.

 

Kylo raked a hand through his hair, irritated to find his mother was correct. He reviewed his options, playing out various scenarios until he had to admit his best choice for Rey was to trust his mother. As much as he didn’t want to.

 

“What do you want in return?” he inquired.

 

“For starters, Rey remains in a safe house. I don’t want her anywhere near the action,” his mother dictated. 

 

“Agreed. Next.”

 

“I want you to lead the assault on the First Order Council. My team will need your insight to mitigate unnecessary losses. The squadron leader already has a plan, but your knowledge will certainly help us avoid any unwanted complications,” she told him.

 

“Who is the squadron leader?”

 

“Poe Dameron.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Ben.”

 

“I’ll go in by myself before I go in with that flyboy.” 

 

“You want to get your ass shot up?” Leia asked. “Fine. Go ahead. But before you go, just make sure to kiss Rey and your child goodbye. That’s the least you can do.”

 

Kylo glared at his mother. He hated the fact that she held the upper-hand. “ _Fine_. Dameron can tag along, but he follows my lead.” 

 

“Agreed.”

 

“And my final condition is this: Once the First Order is dissolved, both you and Rey retire,” she announced.

 

“What?” he growled.

 

“Raising a child takes time,” Leia explained. “It’s a commitment, one that I didn’t take seriously enough. I don’t want that for either of you. When the war is over, I want to be in your lives, which means you both have to stay alive long enough to actually have lives. I already buried Han. I don’t want to bury you too.”

 

Kylo clenched his jaw, debating. On one hand, agreeing to his mother’s terms safeguarded their future. Rey and their child would be protected by the Resistance for the remainder of their days. On the other hand, that security came with a hefty price. Proximity to his mother. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think of a counteroffer that the stubborn woman would take. 

 

Rey’s voice startled him. “We’ll do it,” she vowed. He hadn’t even heard her open the door. She stood behind him, staring at Leia, expectantly. 

 

He turned to his girl, waiting until her eyes raised to his face. “We’ll do it,” he agreed, taking her hand in his. 

 

Rey smiled up at him gratefully. 

 

There was still much to discuss, plans to be made, and strategies to develop, but the only thing that mattered to Kylo Ren at that moment was the woman next to him. And the fact that he’d burn the First Order to the ground to keep her safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more chapters to go... Hang in there. It's about to go down!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works) for all of her support on this!

 

Rey scanned the penthouse from top to bottom. The minimalist style wasn’t at all what she had envisioned when Mr. Calrissian suggested the room. The walls were stark white with matching marble floors and modern furniture. It looked like something out of a sci-fi film.

 

 _Better get used to it_ , she thought bitterly.

 

The lavish suite was going to be her home for the foreseeable future. On the bright side, being here came with a few perks, the two most important being her own in-house chef and unlimited access to Doctor Kalonia.

 

At her side, Chewie sniffed the air as if he was deciding whether or not the room would do. Rey wasn’t as concerned about her placement as she was the numerous Resistance members rummaging about, scanning the chamber for bugs, potential breach points, and any other threats.

 

Behind the main room’s centerpiece—a strange twisting column that reminded her of an enlarged DNA strand, a handful of Leia’s most trusted associates were setting up a communications station. They’d be on comms with Leia and Kylo the entire time.

 

Despite the General’s reassurances that their plan was airtight, Rey couldn’t help the queasy feeling in her gut.

 

“This is all temporary,” Kylo assured her as he strolled in with the last of their bags. “Lando and my mother have been friends since before I was born. Trust me, there is no safer place in the city.”

 

Rey stiffened at his word choice.

 

They hadn’t discussed their argument yet. Once Kylo— _Ben, his real name is Ben_ —agreed to the General’s terms, things proceeded quickly. Rey was ushered from their current room into a private elevator reserved for the penthouse.

 

Typically, the luxurious suite was reserved for the manager, a perk of running a Continental location. With one word from Leia, that all changed. Lando vacated his apartment, moving pillows and ordering room service as though he was welcoming a member of the royal family instead of a sole assassin.

 

Rey resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His overwhelming charm reminded her of the sickening love displays in Paris—worthless and utterly unnecessary. She was pregnant, not an invalid.

 

“I was going to tell you,” Kylo whispered, while his mother was running through their plans with Lando.

 

“When?” she demanded, furiously.

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. Then after a pause, he sighed. “I was afraid you’d run again.”

 

“So you lied to me instead?”

 

“I didn’t lie. I withheld the truth,” he clarified. “I’ve never lied to you.”

 

“An omission of the truth is the same as lying,” Rey retorted. “ _Ben_.”

 

He visibly flinched, her callous tone hitting him where her blade couldn’t. At least not right now.

 

“Miss Niima, if you would be so kind as to offer up your hand,” Mr. Calrissian beckoned her over to the entrance.

 

She walked over to supply her prints for the biometric scan. The security feature would allow her—and only her—to enter the penthouse, once they left to carry out the attack against the First Order. In case of capture, everyone else was removed from the system’s list of accessible parties, even Mr. Calrissian himself.

 

“Perfect.” He beamed at her.

 

She gave him a brief nod and returned to Kylo, who was watching her with a mixture of remorse and expectancy on his face.

 

“Rey, I —”

 

“Ben.”

 

“What?” he snarled at his mother.

 

“Wheels up in ten,” she informed him.

 

“Fine,” he replied, stonily.

 

Grabbing Rey’s hand, he led her into the bedroom, away from the prying eyes and curious ears of the Resistance. As expected, Chewie tagged along. The mastiff hadn’t deterred in his dedication to protect Rey. It comforted her to know while Kylo was put on the streets, she wouldn’t be alone. His companion would serve in his stead. Considering her current mood, Rey preferred the dog to his master.

 

“Rey,” Kylo began again. “I was born Ben Solo but that’s not who I am. He died that night at Luke’s academy. The man you know, the man who is your partner, that’s who I am. This is the real me.”

 

She glared at him, seething. “You act as if your past is meaningless.”

 

“It is!”

 

“Then why hide it? If it means nothing to you, why keep it from me?” she argued.

 

Kylo ran a hand through his hair, frustration clouding his features. “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion,” he explained. “You saw my father as a hero. He saved you, gave you a better life, which was more than he did for his own son. At first, all I wanted to do was expose him, make you see the truth of who he was but the more time we spent together and the more you spoke about him, I realized I couldn’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t want to ever cause you pain,” Kylo told her, his eyes boring into her own with that unmatched intensity he possessed. “I love you.”

 

Rey felt her throat tighten at his admission. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to remain insanely furious at him for keeping his parentage from her. But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

 

“I love you,” she replied, her voice cracking as she spoke.

 

 _Damn hormones_. Why was she crying?

 

As he wrapped his arms around her, Rey felt the weight of her choice crash over her like a landslide. She was surrounded by the Resistance, a shadow organization that had been manipulating her since she became Ahsoka’s pupil. Getting involved with them merely increased the target on her back. The underground collective was the most hunted group on the First Order’s radar.

 

Or at least, they had been until she joined Kylo. 

 

“What have I done?” Rey hissed against his chest, clinging to him as fear gripped her.

 

“It will be fine,” Kylo consoled her.

 

“What if the plan doesn’t work? What if they anticipate it and lay a trap? Or what if—”

 

“Rey, stop.” 

 

“I should have never agreed to this,” she suddenly said, yanking free of him.

 

Kylo’s eyes widened as he watched her frantically shaking her head. “People like us don’t have partners. We can’t. Because this,” she gestured to her stomach, “this is what happens. Now we’re all dead.”

 

He tried to reach for her but she retreated. “Rey—”

 

“Say it. Tell me that this was never going to work and it's all my fault we’re in this mess,” she demanded. “Mashra died. And for what? So I could get us killed too? I’ve lost sight of everything.” Her fists were shaking, jaw trembling because under all that rage was something far worse.

 

 _Uncertainty._  

 

She didn’t recognize herself. The person she'd become—someone who thought constantly of the man in her bed, the man who had taught her to shoot, and who had held her whey she spoke to him of her past—was sentimental. Attachments were a surefire way to get a knife in the back or a bullet in the heart. It was lesson number one and she had forgotten it. All for a pair of pretty, dark eyes. 

 

“No,” Kylo snapped vehemently, covering her hands with his. “I won’t say it because I don’t believe it.” Rey flinched, trying to back away from him, but he held fast to her. He’d learned his lesson. He maintained a tight grip on her, unwilling to allow her to slip free. “We’re going to finish what we started. There are too many rules in this life. We’re leaving it behind. We’re leaving it _all_ behind.” 

 

“Where could we go that they wouldn’t find us?”

 

“If there isn’t a ‘they’ left, we won’t have to worry,” Kylo replied with a knowing grin. “So how about it, partner? One last job?”

 

Her eyes widened. He believed in the plan. He believed in her. His unwavering confidence washed away her insecurity until she found her way back to herself.  

 

He was right. They’d broken almost every rule since coming together and they were stronger for it. Breaking out of the cycle was the next logical step. They didn’t need the First Order. They only needed each other. With the council dissolved, it would take very little to demolish the remainder of the crime organization’s structure. The threat would be eliminated for good. 

 

Rey surged forward, raising herself to her tiptoes to kiss him. 

 

“One last job,” she whispered against his lips.

 

Their kiss was charged, electrified by the immense risk of what they were about to do and the adrenaline coursing through their veins. It was a high, unlike anything Rey had ever experienced before. 

 

“Most people buy a ring but I’m not most people,” Kylo told her in a hushed tone, drawing back only enough to rest his forehead against her own. 

 

“What?”

 

“I want you to be my partner,” he stated. “My life partner. Rey Niima, marry me?” 

 

Fresh tears blurred her vision. He couldn’t be serious. If a partnership was unheard of, marriage was impossible. And yet, she found herself nodding and letting him hold her while she cried.

 

God, she was just as bad as all those doe-eyes couples in Paris.

 

“But only if you come back,” she insisted. “You have to come back to me.”

 

Kylo smoothed her hair down, leaning back to stare down at her. “I’ll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Though he loathed to admit it, Kylo found himself impressed by the resources the Resistance managed to pull together on such short notice. The penthouse was transformed into a war room, complete with a communications bay, weapon arsenal, and a security unit, where motion sensors, cameras, and back-up generators were controlled. It was more than he would have been able to procure in the limited timeframe they had.

 

“Introductions,” Leia began as she ushered them around. “This is Paige Tico, our explosives expert.”

 

Kylo gave the thin woman a once over, curious about her chosen specialty but not surprised.

 

“And this is her younger sister, Rose, who heads up communications,” Leia introduced a petite woman with the same black hair and brown eyes.

 

“It’s an honor,” the girl gushed, startling Rey with a hug.

 

Kylo immediately moved to break them apart. “No touching,” he growled protectively.

 

“Oh, right.” The girl—Rose—blushed. “Precious cargo and all that.”

 

Rey’s eyes widened a fraction before she was glaring at Leia. The General was already making her way to the next Resistance worker, consciously ignoring Rey’s fury.

 

“Do you think I could hit her with my knife before anyone noticed?” she asked him as they crossed the room toward the security set-up.

 

“I think the technical term is stab,” Kylo replied with a chuckle, noting the shimmer of silver at her side. “And yes.”

 

“And the chances of us getting out of here alive afterward?”

 

“Not great,” he admitted.

 

“That’s what I figured,” she said with a sigh, handing over her KA-BAR to him.

 

“Of course, if we had done  this my way, you’d already be on your way across the Atlantic,” Kylo remarked, sheathing it in his holster, opposite his gun.

 

“Your way was going to get us killed,” his partner pointed out.

 

“So would stabbing our only ally, sweetheart.” He winked at her.

 

Turning back to his mother, Kylo’s grin fell away. “Dameron,” he addressed the man flatly.

 

“Solo!” the man, who moonlighted as an NYPD Officer, greeted him. “You look different. Was that a smile I just saw?”

 

“No,” Kylo replied tersely.

 

“Smiles are contagious, you know,” Dameron pressed, his gaze drifting over to Rey. Kylo instinctively put his arm around her.

 

“Don’t worry,” he assured the assault squadron commander. “I’m vaccinated.”

 

Leia made her introductions, more for Rey’s benefit than for his own. If Kylo had his way, Poe Dameron wouldn’t be within five hundred feet of his partner. The overly positive Resistance plant was far too compulsive for his tastes. He didn’t want the wild card disrupting their plans. One misstep and it could all fall apart. One mistake and it could cost him everything.

 

“Last but not least, Kaydel,” his mother came to stop in front of a familiar blonde woman.

 

Kylo grumbled, “You.”

 

“Mr. Ren,” she acknowledged him in the same demure professional manner as she and on his flights.

 

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” he surmised, facing his mother.

 

“That’s a mother’s prerogative,” Leia answered smoothly. “Kaydel is one of our finest operatives. She handles strategy and defense preparation, as well as preliminary attack plans.”

 

“Right,” Kylo drawled. “And tailing your son was part of which of those duties?”

 

His mother ignored him, turning away to speak with Dameron.

 

“I don’t like this,” Kylo murmured to Rey, ducking his head so he could keep his voice low.

 

“I don’t either,” she agreed, “but what choice do we have?”

 

* * *

 

 Rey twirled her knife while she lounged on the couch. Chewie laid next to her, his head resting on her lap. The Resistance workers barely acknowledged her presence once Leia and her troops took off. They all had their heads down, each focused on their assigned tasks, which meant she had nothing to do but worry.

 

Kylo kissed her forehead before he departed, promising to return to her. To them. But the moment the door shut, locking her safely inside, Rey felt apprehension clawing at her insides.

 

Would that be the last thing he said to her? Was that kiss their final one?

 

She should be there with him. Instead, due to her condition, she was forced to stay behind, locked away like some sort of valuable. Rey hated feeling inadequate. 

 

On one hand, she didn’t want people to know about the pregnancy. It introduced a new level of risk. There were far too many members of the Resistance for her to track down and kill. Nine months wouldn’t be enough time.

 

On the other hand, Rey decided she could use her condition to her advantage. The people tasked with guarding her were already aware of her lethal nature. Add in a cocktail of pregnancy hormones and a recipe for murder. They’d give her anything she wanted to keep her happy.

 

Which was why she asked to be patched through to Kylo.

 

“Miss me already?” he questioned when Rose opened the line. 

 

Rey leaned over the communication tech’s shoulder to locate his position on the map. “You’re headed toward the barricade. You should hit it in forty-five seconds,” Rey informed him.

 

“You’re headed for a whirlwind of trouble if my mother finds out what you’re doing,” he responded quietly.

 

“I’m not afraid of the General,” came Rey’s snarky reply.

 

“You should be,” a new voice joined the conversation.

 

Rey drove her blade into Rose’s desk, less than an inch from her hand, causing the entire room to freeze around her. “I don’t possess much patience on a good day,” she instructed the communications tech. “And today is not a good day.”

 

Rose audibly swallowed then rapidly began typing away on her keyboard. “All set,” she confirmed.

 

“Thank you,” Rey told her, watching the girl’s face as she ripped the blade out of the wood and carefully slid it back into her holster.

 

She strolled back to the couch, her newly acquired headset firmly in place as she spoke to her partner over the secure line, “After the barricade, you have to get past ground security.”

 

“Already there,” Kylo informed her.

 

She heard a series of gunshots in the background amidst shouts and groans. Rey clenched her jaw. She was missing all the fun. 

 

Withdrawing her gun, the one her partner had gifted her, Rey lazily loaded and unloaded the ammunition. She needed to keep busy. Idle hands and all that.

 

“We’re in the elevator,” Kylo announced.

 

“How does it feel to be working with a team?” she asked teasingly. 

 

He huffed into his comm. “It feels like a reminder for why I work alone.”

 

“Alone, huh?” She aimed for the modern art sculpture in front of her and pretended to fire a shot at it.

 

“Until my wife is cleared for fieldwork,” he clarified. 

 

Rey felt her breath hitch. _Wife_. It was the first time he’d spoken the term out loud. A strange sensation fluttered in her belly. She shook it away, saying, “Good answer.”

 

“We’re here,” he reported in a whisper.

 

She waited, perched on the edge of her seat, and closed her eyes to listen. Chewie picked up his head, studying her. She didn’t move, waiting for the assault rifles to discharge in a symphony of hot lead and explosive noise.

 

But it never came.

 

The silence dragged on, slowly torturing her until—

 

“Rey?”

 

Her eyes snapped open and she sat straight up. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“They’re already dead. Poisoned,” Kylo explained.

 

“We expected that,” she reminded him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“Hux is among them,” he revealed.

 

“What?” She sprung up from her seat. She rushed over to the communications bay to stare at the heat map, Chewie hot on her heels. “Then who—”

 

A sudden flurry of gunshots cut her off.

 

“Kylo?”

 

The line crackled then went dead.

 

“Kylo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudo'ed and shared this story. It was something different for me and a very fun challenge. I can't believe we are at the end. 
> 
> As always, I couldn't do this without the support of this fandom, especially my stellar beta, [LoveofEscapism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveofEscapism/pseuds/LoveofEscapism/works)!

 

Hearing Rey’s voice over the comms didn’t come as a shock to Kylo. He’d wager his Heckler and Koch she’d find a way to be patched through before they left the Continental. Sure enough, as the truck pulled out on the street, he heard a crackle and then background chatter.

 

He ducked his head so his mother wouldn’t see his grin. Despite his best efforts, she caught on, but Rey switched over to a private line.

 

Having her in his ear made Kylo feel like she was next to him. Keeping her safe was his priority but he couldn’t deny that he missed his partner. Watching her work was a thing of beauty, one he’d never tire of.

 

They breached the perimeter of the Empire State Building without issue.

 

The famous landmark had been raised during the time of his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. Back then, the First Order had operated under the name Empire, hence the significance of creating the world’s largest building. Despite losing the position as the tallest building, the council still convened weekly on the top floor.

 

When the elevator deposited him there, Kylo felt a change in the air. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere, hot and putrid.

 

Cautiously, with his gun raised, he stepped out. When no guards appeared, Kylo proceeded to lead the squad into the meeting chambers.

 

Every member of the council was slumped over in their seats, motionless and silent. It was quiet, in the eerie way only a room filled with death could be.

 

Kylo moved around to Brendol Hux, finding his son’s body on the floor behind his chair. Kneeling, he checked the redhead’s pulse.

 

“Dead,” he confirmed to his mother.

 

“These guys too,” Dameron conformed from across the table. He glanced around, confusion written on his face. “What the hell happened here?”

 

“Poison,” Leia declared, dipping her finger in their wine. “Odorless, tasteless...probably from Parnassos.”

 

Kylo felt his chest tighten. He needed to get back to Rey.

 

_ Now. _

 

The instant he recognized the danger, a group of soldiers, outfitted in battle gear, marched into the chamber. They opened fire on the Resistance.

 

Kylo grabbed his mother, shoving her behind the table before flipping it over to use as cover. 

 

“Stay down. I’ve got this under control,” he ordered.

 

“You sound just like your father,” Leia grumbled, reloading her weapon. “And he only ever said that when things weren’t under control.”

 

Kylo glared at her before taking out the next wave of attackers. He intercepted them before they could get Dameron or the others, but more kept coming.

 

Bullets tore through the wood, glass, and discarded bodies. The floor was stained with red wine and blood in a matter of minutes. The assault raged on, shouts and ammunition discharges layered over the top of one another.

 

Kylo fired off three shots, one right after the other into the heart of his attacker. The man fell dead before he could retaliate. More converged on his position. They seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.

 

“Dameron, report!” he shouted over the rain of gunfire.

 

“Wexley is down,” the man yelled over to Kylo from where he was pinned against the wall. “So is Pava.”

 

Kylo shot another four men dead, before glancing in the direction of his mother. “General?”

 

“Ackbar and Amilyn are down,” she returned, her face solemn.

 

_ Shit. _

 

It was just the three of them left. For the first time since agreeing to this plan, he felt the cold grip of fear latch onto him.

 

“Ben!”

 

He twisted around, driving Rey’s KA-BAR into the stomach of his assailant. As the man’s lifeless form fell to the floor, another figure appeared.

 

Kylo prepared to strike, when the man ripped off his helmet.

 

“Luke.”

 

“Hey kid, it’s been a while,” the old man said, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

“Not long enough,” Kylo growled, raising his weapon.

 

“Stop it. Both of you.” Leia stepped between them, placing her hand over the end of Kylo’s gun. “You’re late,” she chided her twin.

 

“I had to see an old friend about some unfinished business,” Luke replied vaguely. “Besides, it looks like you’re just about done here.”

 

A soldier ran into the room. Without turning to face him, Kylo shot the man in the head. His body collapsed to the ground, the only sound in a once again silent chamber.

 

“I need to get back to the Continental,” he demanded. Leia stared at him skeptically. “I know who did this,” he stated. “I need to get back there.  _ Now _ .” 

 

“I see you haven’t forgotten everything I taught you,” Luke remarked smugly.

 

His nephew’s eyes narrowed. “No, but I’m trying.”

 

“What is going on?” Leia demanded, frustratedly.

 

“This was merely a diversion to lure you away from the real target,” Luke explained, never taking his eyes off Kylo, who stood silently seething.

 

The General’s eyes widened. “Rey.”

 

“I’m going,” he announced, charging past his uncle.

 

“Ben, you need back-up,” Leia insisted. He pretended not to hear her. “Lando’s still waiting in the van. He can take you.”

 

“I don’t need anyone but her,” he replied. 

 

No one dared to stop him, least of all his uncle. He ran down the stairs, jumping several at a time to bypass any lingering First Order operatives and the slow ride of the elevator. When he hit the ground floor, Kylo kicked open the alley exit, firing shots at the waiting guards, and killing them instantly. 

 

He lifted their weapons before slinging his leg over one of their motorcycles and speeding off. 

 

The sleek design of the vehicle allowed him to duck and weave through the city traffic. 

 

Within minutes, he was back at the hotel. The normal golden glow of the lobby was replaced with desolate darkness. On the steps, the youngest Tico sister sat, head in her hands, crying. Her outfit was covered in blood. He felt the tightness in chest increase tenfold. 

 

Kylo leaped off the bike, barely registering how the machine fell over without its rider.  “Where is she?” 

 

“Inside,” the communications tech answered, shoulders sagging. 

 

He staggered through the doors, entering the dimly lit lobby. For a moment, all he heard was the thundering of his own heart, drumming loudly in his ears. Then, slowly, another rhythm reached his ears. 

 

Rounding the corner, Kylo found his partner kneeling over Phasma’s motionless form. Rey drove her blade into the woman’s chest over and over again. The thud of the blade against the marble floor echoed throughout the space, along with the sickening squelch from the gaping wound she’d made. Tears streamed down her face and a crimson splatter decorated her clothes and skin. She remained unaware of his presence until he spoke her name. 

 

“Rey.”

 

The knife clattered to the ground and he heard her breath catch in her throat. Her hazel eyes, rimmed red, raised to meet his dark gaze.

 

“You came back,” her voice was hoarse from her tears. 

 

“I’ll always come for you, sweetheart,” he promised before she flung herself around him. “ _ Always _ .”

 

“She said —” her voice cracked and it took her a moment to pull herself together. “She said you were dead. She said she killed you. I couldn’t let that stand.”

 

“You did what you had to,” Kylo returned, stroking her hair gently. “It’s all over now. I’m never leaving you again. From now on, it's you and me, partner.”

 

“And Chewie,” she reminded him. 

 

“Where is he?” 

 

“I locked him in the room upstairs so he wouldn't get hurt,” Rey admitted.

 

Kylo leaned back, cupping her face in his hands. “Did I mention how much I love you?” She shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. “Let me remedy that.” 

  
  


* * *

 

**5 Years Later...**

 

The water broke gently along the shore of Varykino. A storm passed in the night, churning up the deep blue water but in the light of morning, only clear skies remained.

 

Two figures stood in the garden, one tall and lean with a scar on her upper right arm and a shorter figure still growing into her own. Where the child was unable to match her mother’s stealth and skill, she was able to match her looks. With flowing chestnut locks and a smattering of freckles, Nyssa Solo was a miniature version of her mother. The only exceptions were her pale skin and dark chocolate eyes, which undoubtedly belonged to the renowned former assassin who fathered her.

 

“Be careful, Nyssa,” Rey warned her daughter, as she demonstrated her attack once more. “These are sharp. You don’t want to cut yourself or anyone else by accident, do you?”

 

“No, Mom,” she replied solemnly. Then spotting a figure watching from the shade, she tilted her head curiously. “Is that what happened to your face, Dad?”

 

Rey laughed, her eyes beaming with amusement.

 

“It wasn’t an accident,” he answered. Kylo approached them, narrowing his eyes at his wife in mock anger.

 

“Your father made a mistake,” Rey clarified for Nyssa. “And I taught him a lesson he’ll never forget.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“That your mother is a territorial woman,” Kylo returned. Rey punched his shoulder. “And that she’s always right.”

 

“That’s better,” Rey muttered with a smirk.

 

“But yesterday, you said Mom—”

 

Kylo clamped his hand over his daughter’s mouth.

 

“Said what?” Rey questioned, arching an eyebrow at her husband.

 

Nyssa jabbed her elbow backward into her father’s ribs, causing him to release her. Rey smiled, proud of how quickly she was advancing in her training. “Dad said you got your ass shot up because you’re too stubborn to listen to him.”

 

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, smirking. “Oh, did he now?”

 

“Yep,” Nyssa confirmed with a cheeky grin.

 

“Sweetheart, what I meant—”

 

Rey silenced him by springing forward and tackling him to the ground. They grappled for a few moments before she claimed victory, pinning his arms to the ground at his sides while she straddled him. 

 

“What I meant was that you are fearless,” he groaned, trying to salvage his answer.

 

“I’m sure,” she replied skeptically, reaching back to her holster.

 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Kylo warned with a knowing smirk.

 

Before Rey could respond, their daughter launched herself at them both, causing the family to land in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

 

“Dogpile!” Nyssa cried, instantly summoning Chewie from his sleep.

 

The graying mastiff was Nyssa’s shadow, always near the child from the moment she was born. He situated himself on top of the family, positioning himself so he could lick her face. 

 

“Chewie!” Kylo grumbled from underneath everyone, but his once-loyal companion was no longer his to command.

 

Rey smiled, leaning over to kiss her husband. “See? Retirement isn’t so bad,” she remarked.

 

He hummed. “Still, I’ll be ready to get back to work once Nyssa starts school.”

 

“I know,” she told him with a sigh.

 

The last few years had been a blessing, one Rey never planned on having. A quiet, peaceful life was not an option for people like them, yet that was exactly what they’d been given. 

 

While they’d devoted every waking minute to their daughter, Leia had taken the initiative to establish a new academy, training the future generations of assassins. Her hope was it would entice them to think for themselves and keep contracts between the requestor and the hitman without the unnecessary burden of the Council.

 

In the fall, Nyssa would be attending the school. Even though it was months away, Rey hadn’t been able to stop herself from sharing her skills with her daughter. Nyssa was a fast learner and already well on her way to rivaling her parents’ talents. 

 

They couldn’t keep her hidden forever. The First Order may have been dissolved but there was always another threat, another disgruntled member of the community seeking vengeance. At first, that fear kept Rey up at night, cradling Nyssa in one arm and holding a knife in the other. Eventually, Kylo convinced her the best way they could protect their child was to prepare her.

 

So they did.

 

“Kacha mentioned a new player in the New York area,” Rey commented to her husband as they brushed themselves off from the dirt.

 

Nyssa was already running around the garden, racing Chewie while he barked excitedly alongside her.

 

“A new series of shipments?” Kylo questioned his eyes on their daughter.

 

“They never learn,” Rey confirmed.

 

“So it’s back to work then?”

 

She shrugged then tilted her face up with a grin. “It was getting a little boring around here.”

 

“Fucking finally,” he moaned. “I miss seeing you in action.”

 

Rey dragged a finger up his chest. “I miss  _ debriefing _ after the action.”

 

“Oh, you do?” he asked while she stared up at him hungrily. “Ah, you do. Well, I can help with that.”

 

With that, Kylo scooped her, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her inside the villa.

 

It was good to be back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for more like this, I started a new Organized Crime Reylo AU called [Crossfire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22773172/chapters/54417226).
> 
> Be seeing you...  
> 


End file.
